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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825998">Best part of me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samari1/pseuds/Samari1'>Samari1</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bucky has the patience of an army of men, Canon Disabled Character, Clint is oblivious, Deaf Clint Barton, Divorce, Domestic Violence, F/M, Getting Together, M/M, Multiverse, Past Domestic Violence, Post-Canon Fix-It, Snap related angst, not between Clint and Bucky, pre-winterhawk, reacting badly to return from Soul Realm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:27:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,783</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825998</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Samari1/pseuds/Samari1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton thought that everything would return to normal after reversing the Snap. Oh how wrong he was. At least he has his fellow Avengers to help him navigate a divorce and all that comes after.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton, previous Clint Barton/Laura Barton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nival_Vixen/gifts">Nival_Vixen</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Centers more on Clint dealing with the craziness that is divorce. This whole thing happened because I had a moment of "What if Laura didn't react well to returning from the Soul Realm?!" It was supposed to be all about how Clint handled that, but yeah Bucky decided he wanted to stick his nose in. </p>
<p>For reference, the ages I used for the kids are: <br/>Nate: Age 5-6 (born 2015. 3 when Snapped, brought back 2023- STILL 3!) <br/>Lila- 15-16 ish <br/>Cooper- 16-17 ish <br/>Morgan- Same age as Nate! </p>
<p>Fic title came from Jeremy Renner's song "Best Part of me" (which is about his daughter so I couldn't resist).</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Clint should have known it would end this way. There were days he wondered why he’d even tried. Holidays and summer vacation. It wasn’t much. It was less than when he’d been … well </span>
  <em>
    <span>before. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was something though. Thank every god out there for Pepper. She’d been a fuckin’ angel, though Laura’s lawyers were probably cursing her to this day as one step beyond Satan. Fuck it. He’d done what the world needed after the Snap. Wasn’t his fault Laura had drawn some sort of line when she and the kids returned, a line she’d not bothered to tell Clint about. The only thing that helped was that the kids hadn't aged in the soul realm so he hadn’t missed any of their growing up years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>While the Avengers had been busy clearing their names and getting pardons for all the shit they shouldn’t have needed pardons for, she’d been consulting divorce lawyers. S.H.I.E.L.D. was even out in the light again and (since he respected the fuck out of Pepper and she’d been the one to push the idea) Clint had agreed to be listed as an agent. Only to find out he’d had a mountain of back pay coming plus what he’d been handed as some sort of Avengers paycheck. Phil had refused, apparently, to take Clint off the roster. Nat’s back pay had gone straight into an account for Clint’s kids, just like Nat wanted. Pepper’s bean counters watched over it and were making it so his kids would never, ever fuckin’ want for anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hauled a couple more of his boxes up the stairs of his building in Bed-Stuy. Because Pepper didn’t do anything halfway. He owned the whole damn building. Pepper, who had cried happy tears when his amazing kids had taken Morgan aside after the memorial service and managed to get her to laugh and play. It helped that Nate and Morgan were less than a year apart in age so they got on well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper who’d hauled him to the best damn lawyers money could buy to fight Laura’s insistence that his own fucking kids shouldn’t be allowed around him </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Pepper who was scary in a way so eerily similar to Nat, but not identical, and that was apparently all it took for Clint and Pepper to be friends now. The woman was a damned menace and Clint sorta adored that (in a not wanting to rip her panties off sort of way because yeah hard NO) about her. He, Sam, and Bucky even had apartment style space in the mansion Pepper and Morgan used as their weekday home in Manhattan. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint had, admittedly, been too fucked up to do more than barely function after being slapped with a damn restraining order (which Pepper’s awesome lawyers had gotten tossed out) and divorce papers when he’d returned home after all the hearings and other assorted bullshit. So, Pepper had Happy get him from Missouri and settled him in at her freaking mansion. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan was such a happy kid that Clint had slowly been pulled out of that deep pit of depression he’d not seen a way out of for months. She was as terrifyingly smart as both of her parents and inquisitive. It hurt in such a bone deep way, to see her and be around her daily and yet his own babies were out of reach. He wasn’t a fuck up enough to hold that against Morgan though. So, Clint had made a point of spending time with the pint size Stark every damn day he could drag himself out of bed. Hearing that happy little voice calling for “Uncle Clint” soothed the sting of not hearing his own kids calling for “Dad”, at least a little bit. So, he’d set out to be the best fuckin’ uncle on the damn planet. Thus far, only Scott was even close in Morgan’s eyes and that was because Scott was a giant kid himself. (Sometimes literally giant.) Surprisingly, it was Bucky that was third (because Happy didn’t count for this list because he was her favorite hands down and everyone else paled in comparison) on Morgan’s favorite uncles list. Morgan would climb Bucky like a damn tree and settle in the crook of his metal arm, cheerily telling him all about her day. Morgan would playfully pout and give Sam this look that was so fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tony Stark</span>
  </em>
  <span> that any adult present would choke up a bit and have to look away. Clint thought it was because Sam was too terrified of Pepper to give in and take Morgan for the flights she continued to ask for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dropping the boxes on his sofa, Clint jogged back down the stairs. Because of all of Laura’s bullshit, he was moving into his own place rather than being with the only two other full time Avengers hunting down problems. The whole Multiverse thing had been interesting and difficult to understand and deal with. He so wished he was hunting HYDRA wannabes instead of this. He could focus on the job and not the pain. It would be so much better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulled up short, nearly tripping over his own feet when he got to the main doors. Pepper, Happy, and Morgan were waiting outside by the moving truck he’d packed and driven from Missouri. It had been something he’d needed to do himself despite Pepper swearing up and down and sideways that she’d hire movers that would take proper care with his equipment and car. At his insistence on doing it his way she’d sent Happy with him. (Poor guy.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It had actually been a surprise to see just what an angry Happy looked like when they’d arrived to find all of Lila’s archery equipment piled in the front yard with a note: “Take this shit too, Clint! I’ll not have her following your path any longer!” She’d also taken the kids away for the day, a direct violation of the judge’s orders. Happy had been taking videos and making calls to the lawyers before Clint had been able to move. The pile of rubble that had been his targets had brought tears to his eyes and more than a few Fury-level curse words from Happy’s mouth. Clint figured if she’d been able to get into his safe room, she’d have destroyed that too. Luckily, paranoia was a thing and he’d been too worried about his enemies taking her captive and forcing her to open the weapons cache so he’d argued against her being in the system. His clothes had been piled in the room he’d used to make arrows, though those too had been snapped. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t expect you for a while,” he said, hoping the smile he managed looked all casual and his tone wasn’t as panicked as he thought it was. His hearing was fucking shot, again, thanks to something (they’d not ever figured out exactly what) during the battle at HQ. The new aids that Pepper had her tech geniuses make were purple, because hello purple was the best color, and OTE style thanks to the massive amount of damage done. She had promised better ones soon, but he was more than okay with these. It helped clue people in without him having to explain. He fuckin’ hated explaining. At least he’d remembered enough ASL from his shitty ass childhood to have no issues communicating. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan, bless her, tipped her head and studied him before racing across the sidewalk and throwing herself at him. Clint caught her, just like she knew he would, and swung her around before allowing her to shift around and cling to his back. “We brought food!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laughed, his mood improving as it always did when she was around. Pepper gave him one of her knowing looks. “Ohh! What sorta food, munchkin?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pizza!” Morgan screeched. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t wince, though it was a near thing. He just waited out the feedback. “Aww, pizza, yes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy grabbed the last two boxes out of the moving truck and Pepper carried what looked to be a large amount of food other than pizza inside. At Morgan’s nudge, Clint grabbed the stack of pizza boxes from their fancy car. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was weird, having neighbors who damn well knew exactly who he was and yet they were still so damn </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Okay, there was the one guy who refused to call him anything but Hawkguy, but Clint figured it was close enough for now. Aimee peeked out as they passed, smiling brightly and waving. Morgan waved back. Clint just shrugged and tried to smile. It wasn’t until Simone’s older kid raced down to meet them that Clint crouched down and set Morgan on the ground, hoping like hell he didn’t drop the pizzas. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Charlie!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Morgan!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, Clint thought as he stood, she was completely Tony Stark personified when it came to making friends. He glanced over to see Pepper and Happy looking as amused as he did, a bit sad around the edges too. The kids were doing that hugging thing and talking a mile a minute despite the fact that this was the third time they’d ever met.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mommy…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper grinned, though Clint knew she was pushing away her sadness with a great deal of effort. “The boxes are marked, Clint. Morgan insisted her friend and his Mommy had to have pizza too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Luckily it was the top box. He passed it to Simone when she joined them, looking tired, her younger son at her hip. “You shouldn’t have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan pouted. “It’s a housewarming gift ‘cause Uncle Clint is moving in. Mommy says it is </span>
  <em>
    <span>polite</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Right, Mommy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper looked like she was trying not to laugh. “That’s right, sweetheart. We can’t argue with manners, can we?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simone laughed lightly. “No we can’t, Mrs Stark.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pepper, Simone, please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simone just shrugged, looking amused. “Doesn’t seem polite. We’re new acquaintances and all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint laughed outright. “She has you there, Pep.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper snickered. “I’ll keep asking then.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Simone managed to lure Charlie away with the pizza. “I’ll keep using my manners. Thank you, though, it is much appreciated.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy howled with laughter when Morgan rolled her eyes. “See if you thank me after you see the veggies. Mommy insisted you have them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Our pizza is gonna get cold, munchkin,” Clint pointed out, snickering. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan gave one last wave and took off like a shot towards Clint’s apartment. Clearly, she had her priorities straight. He sorta wished he still had that level of energy without a constant supply of coffee. With a sigh, he climbed the last couple sets of stairs. Morgan was already inside, eyeing the door as if she was starving. “Yay! Pizza!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint set the boxes on the counter and gave into the urge to hug her as tightly as he dared. He could do this. He had to do this. No matter how much he didn’t want to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint had set himself a routine. Okay, damn it all, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pepper </span>
  </em>
  <span>set him a routine. Four days a week he taught beginners' archery and even had private sessions with one Kate Bishop. Apparently, she was determined to be an Avenger. A second Hawkeye. Not that Clint had an issue with it, other than his girl wanting to be a Hawkeye officially too. Ehh, the more Hawkeyes the better. He’d figure out how to make it work, because both Lila and Kate were fucking amazing and he would make them even better but only because it was what they wanted. Clint would never force anything on anyone as things had been forced on him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He also managed to have Sam and Bucky - sometimes together, but usually separately - stop by regularly, mostly with food. He even had gaming systems, though the wii was the one used most these days. And training with both men to keep him in shape and ready if the Avengers were needed again. He could almost set his clock by their visits, at least when they weren’t off Avengering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The new part of his routine that he wasn’t dumb enough to tell Pepper about was his dealings with the tracksuit bros. Idiots, the lot of them. But, the Boss, Ivan, was a real piece of work. It also meant he was regularly sporting bruises, Band-Aids, and more often than not a busted nose. Pepper would be pissed if she found out, but hey, he was keeping the entire neighborhood safe. Wasn’t that what an Avenger was supposed to do?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Granted it wasn’t tracking Zemo or dealing with all the other oddities, but it was something. Clint knew enough about himself to know that without something he didn’t do well at all. He needed to be kept busy or he got lost in his head. God, he wished Nat was here. She’d have done … well, Clint wasn’t sure what just that things wouldn’t have gone to such shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He opened the laptop Pepper had given him and set up the Tuesday night video call with the kids. He missed them so damn much, but there wasn’t anything more he could do. He’d grown up without parents and was going to do his best to make sure his kids knew he adored them and would be there if he could. In three weeks the kids would be picked up by Happy and be here, in NYC, for two whole weeks. He couldn’t wait. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he waited for the kids to engage the call, he shook his head at all the hoops he had to jump through to even talk to his own babies. Laura had lost her shit a bit in court and now the only communications between them were through a court monitored app and the video calls went through a court approved and monitored system too. Hell, he couldn’t even go to the farm or even meet her halfway to swap the kids. No, the judge had been quite firm on appointing approved people to get the kids and return them home. Pepper had just smiled and said how wonderful it was she had jets and quinjets at her disposal. She’d also insisted that it wasn’t just her and Happy on the list. Clint wasn’t certain how Sam and Bucky felt about it, but neither had complained so he’d left it alone. Laura had, of fuckin’ course, objected saying how “dangerous” the Avengers were. The judge hadn’t been pleased, citing her and fining her for her outburst. All he wanted was to make sure his kids had a safe and happy childhood. His ex-wife wasn’t helping that any. But, playing by the rules was all he could damn well do at this point. Clint </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>rules.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Twenty minutes after the call was to happen, Clint’s shoulders slumped and he dutifully reported it through the system. The laptop was left open, just in case, and he scrounged around for something to eat to go with his coffee. An hour past the scheduled call time and he gave up on talking to the kids and eating. Even </span>
  <em>
    <span>pizza </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t appeal. He shuffled over, yanking off the purple hoodie and dropped onto the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was still there when someone banged on his door around midnight. When they just kept knocking, Clint got up and swung open the door. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky was standing there, one eyebrow lifted, murder scowl present as usual. “Don’t snarl at me. Pepper wanted me to swing by and check on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a fuckin’ kid!” Clint winced, running a hand over the back of his neck and sighing. “Shit. Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky held up a pizza box. “Move or I won’t share.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint moved, feeling like crap for taking his frustrations out on Bucky when it wasn’t his fault. “Bribe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other man smirked. “Got me in the door, didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not hungry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I call bullshit. I seem to recall stories of you stopping to grab a slice or some coffee mid-battle. Eat or I’ll tell Pepper.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint huffed, shuffling back over to the couch and grabbing the pizza box on his way past. “You do know what happens to snitches, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just kicked off his boots and walked into the kitchen, clearly aiming for the coffee pot. “Yeah, we don’t get our asses kicked by Pepper. Or worse, have Morgan crying because you’re sad. Suck it up, Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He laid his head back and stared up at the ceiling. He stuffed a slice in his mouth so he didn’t have to talk to the other man. He did nod in thanks when Bucky brought over the coffee. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, since I’m not big on sleeping and you clearly aren’t going to sleep… Mario Kart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint almost choked, laughing despite his current mood. It was one of the games Morgan was allowed to play and they’d all become experts at it as a result. He nodded and moved to set the box aside to set it all up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eat, I’ve got it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t bother complaining. He just picked up another slice and sipped his coffee. It wasn’t talking to his kids, but he wasn’t alone either. He’d take it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The text came at 9 am. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You idiot, why did you report me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint started another pot of coffee and struggled to find patience, of which he was in a short supply on the best of days. He tossed the phone down on the counter loud enough to startle the man on his couch. They’d finally fallen asleep around five, after numerous rounds of the game and very little talking other than trash talk that always happened when they were left to their own devices. It had actually done wonders for his mood. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky was up and grabbing the phone before Clint could work up the energy to complain. “She always this way?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Grabbing two clean cups, Clint poured them both coffee and shrugged. They’d taken a break around 2 am and Bucky had almost lost his mind at the stack of dishes. So, yeah, that had happened … washing dishes in the middle of the night. Oh well. He really should see about a dishwasher. “Not the worst she’s said.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You gonna answer?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint took the phone and typed quickly, making sure to not say anything rude. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Judge set the rules.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’ll be lucky if my lawyers don’t skin you alive! I want more child support.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky said more than a few Fury-level words before pulling out his own phone and sending a text. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, you telling Pep?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The murder glare didn’t scare Clint, but the wicked look in Bucky’s eyes gave him pause. “Yeppp. And your lawyers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Groaning, Clint ignored everything but his coffee. He finished off the first pot and was starting the second when his phone flashed at him. He glanced over to see that it was a text from his lawyer. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t respond, Barton. It’ll only make this worse.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t not reply to that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not a total idiot. Do your thing, I’ll be a good boy. This isn’t about me, it’s about the kids.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We know. Keep being the reasonable one.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint snorted. “Yeah, what a fucked up world, I’m the reasonable one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighed. “Go, shower and whatever. We’ve been invited to brunch with Pepper and Morgan. Apparently today is some sort of teacher work thing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t bother to argue. He wasn’t about to let Morgan down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had managed to not tangle with Ivan and his tracksuit idiots for over a week. The sole purpose was to not look too beat up when the kids arrived. He was chilling (as much as he could at this point) with Morgan in the office of the Stark hanger. She was so damn excited to see her friends and he wasn’t sure which of them was twitchier. Happy and Pepper had gone to get the kids, along with one of the lawyers. Sam and Bucky were back at the mansion, though both had offered to come to the airport. He’d waved off the offer, promising to bring the kids by to visit after they settled in at his place.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uncle Clint, Uncle Clint! Look!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rolled and stood from where he’d been sprawled on the floor, joining Morgan at the window and stepping over her ever present K’nex style building toys. Then he grinned when he spotted the plane. Pepper had texted to say they’d had no problems picking up the kids, but until he could see them with his own eyes he wouldn’t believe it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t sure who was more impatient as they both raced to the door, though he did have to hold her back from running out into the hanger while the plane was still moving. They both were grinning as they raced over, next to the plane before the stairs were in place. Lila was down the stairs and hurling herself through the air immediately. Luckily, he braced and caught her. God, she’d grown </span>
  <em>
    <span>four inches at least </span>
  </em>
  <span>since he’d last seen her. She was definitely going to be over six feet tall like he was. Cooper was just two or three inches shy of him already.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wanna stay!” She sobbed, clinging tightly like she’d not done for years now, not since she moved ever closer to being a teenager. “Don’t make us go back, Daddy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He just held on, not missing the lawyer filming this. Ignoring the lawyer, he shifted Lila so he could carry her closer to the plane and greet the boys. Cooper, who had been standing quietly at Happy’s side and looking far more sedate than any kid his age should be, smiled and raced over, wrapping himself around Clint and nudging his sister aside to do it. “Daddy! We missed you! We wanna stay!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint refused to cry, damn it. Nate tried to launch himself out of Pepper’s hold and Clint managed to shift both teens enough to catch him, grateful for his friends' insistence that he continue to train as usual. He wasn’t sure if it would be him or the kids that refused to let go when they got to the car. Fucks sake! Cooper and Lila were 16 and 17 and hadn’t called him Daddy in </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Morgan, bless her, bounced from foot to foot while they hugged. She ran out of patience only after Happy grabbed the kids backpacks. Clint was not going to let anyone see how angry it made him that the kids were to be here for two weeks and all Laura had sent was backpacks. “Uncle Clint! I wanna hug my friends!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Chuckling, Clint managed to crouch down to Morgen’s level. “You hear that? Morgan missed you three too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Cooper reluctantly peeled himself off of Clint. He was flustered, probably at being an almost adult. But, he was a damn good kid so he crouched down to be at Morgan’s level. “Hiya, Morgan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate seemed content to wave and climb around so he could settle on Clint’s shoulders, his hands gripping Clint’s hair. Lila, however, only tightened her hold, lifting her head and whispering, “Hi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We gets to go to a baseball game,” Morgan said, grinning and at some point she’d latched on to Cooper. “You like baseball, Lila?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint could feel her smile against his neck as she shrugged. “Cooper does, munchkin.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nate bounced and Clint managed not to wince at the pull on his hair. “Food!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper laughed. “We have snacks, Nate. Want to get going? Your Daddy has your rooms all ready for you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lila finally lifted her head and Clint didn’t need to see her face to know she had one of those </span>
  <em>
    <span>looks</span>
  </em>
  <span> that Nat had (not so) secretly taught her going on, the tone was enough. “Auntie Pepper, please don’t make us go back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper’s bright smile didn’t dim, though Clint didn’t miss the pain in her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, I wish I could do that. Why don’t we get moving and talk about all the fun you will have whilst you’re here?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lila scoffed, finally unwinding herself and dropping to the ground, arms crossed over her chest and looking every inch a stubborn and determined Barton. “You are </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pepper Potts</span>
  </em>
  <span>! The only person who could make things happen quicker was Auntie Nat. Hmf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy laughed, shooing everyone to the car. “Let’s get everyone settled. Then we can have a chat about your Auntie Nat… if you want.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint nearly lost all his shit when Lila burst into tears. “We aren’t allowed!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Clint winced, reeling in his anger, hugging his daughter tightly, thankful that Pepper rushed over and scooped Nate off his shoulders and passed him to Cooper. “Lila, sweetheart, what do you mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was Cooper, who was walking towards the car hand in hand with Morgan, Nate perched on his other arm, that answered, “We are banned from talking about Auntie Nat and Daddy. All our pictures were packed away … or burned. I dunno anything but that they are gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was at that moment that Clint actively began hating his ex-wife. He’d not managed it before, blaming himself (as usual) for everything that had gone wrong. But this, this was too fuckin’ much. Maybe it was all his fault, but there was no reason to take things this far. “I have pictures. A few. Copies of the ones at the house.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see what I can find,” Pepper offered, looking as upset as he felt. She ducked into the car and shot the lawyer one of her “scary as Nat” looks. The lawyer simply nodded and focused back on his phone screen. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint picked Lila up and made his way to the car, whispering, “We can talk about Nat all you want, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lila just continued to sob. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>All the words Clint had been about to say just … died away. He knew he was sputtering and gaping and looking much like a damn fool. It was just … yeah no words. Fuck. He knew he and Laura had been struggling since The Raft incident (okay longer but he didn’t want to think about it), but this was beyond the fuckin’ pale. How dare the bitch sully Nat’s memory like this?!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I will post a chapter a day. Hope you enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>All of their clothes that had been sent were either purple or the Avengers themed ones. Clint had, literally, bit his tongue rather than ask. He’d set a text through the app to let Laura know the kids had arrived safely, like the good boy he was fuckin’ being these days, and hadn’t even got a reply back. He wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t. Instead, he helped the kids unpack the meagre belongings Laura had sent. Luckily, having Pepper Potts in your corner meant that the kids had basic wardrobes in their rooms already. He wasn’t sure if that meant she knew what a bitch Laura would be or simply anticipated worst case scenarios after dealing with Tony for so many years. He’d have to thank her, again, for having his back.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pepper had instructed them to text her when they were ready to come over for dinner and Clint hadn’t been certain if they’d actually go. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila had been clingy, even more so than Nate. She’d loved her room (purple and archery themed) and had actually done some sort of dance when she found the case of bows and other supplies. In Clint’s defense, it was locked with a keypad just like all of his weapons were, just so Laura had no reason to have another rage filled fit. Finding her favorite bow was what finally got her to peel herself off of him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint had asked and Pepper had delivered: cork walls, painted purple, and numerous targets that Clint (with Bucky’s help) had installed all over the room and at all angles. Hell, half of the targets were on swivels so they could be angled so she could practice trick shots too.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He’d gone to help the boys, chuckling at the steady sound of arrows hitting the targets or her walls as he helped Nate unpack and check on Cooper. Cooper had asked, numerous times, when they were going to dinner, so Clint went back down to the kitchen to get his phone. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Keep the crappy vigilante themed clothes there. I’ll burn them if they come back.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint didn’t reply. Instead, he texted Pepper and waited for her reply. “Kids! Auntie Pepper is sending a car!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper appeared, holding Nate’s hand and helping his baby brother navigate the stairs. “Do we really get to see a baseball game?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint grinned, tucking his phone away and nodding. “Yeah, fancy box seats and everything. And the zoo, aquarium, and half a dozen other things I thought you three might like.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“School,” Lila announced, bow in hand as she raced down the stairs, wearing one of his Hawkeye hoodies she must have swiped from his bedroom. “I want a school here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gods, she was as stubborn as he was. “Sweetheart, you go to school in Missouri.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmf. For now. I can take my bow, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint laughed, tipping his head towards the bow cases hanging by the door. “I think you’ll find one of those has your name on it, Hawkeye.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Something settled deep down as her face lit up with joy. Nate and Cooper looked happier too now that they had settled in. He may be a disaster and a colossal fuck up, but Clint was determined to get this right. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nate had taken one look at the gathered adults in the living room of Pepper’s mansion and gone directly over to Bucky, lifting his arms. Clint had bitten his lip, not wanting to push his kids on anyone but also curious as to how the other man would react. The murder glare lessened and Nate was scooped up, settled like Morgan liked to be on the bionic arm. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Good?” Clint asked, his tone light but also wanting to double check. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky just lifted one eyebrow. “I dunno. Morgan? You good with Nate borrowing your spot?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morgan scoffed, already tugging Cooper down towards her playroom. His oldest son looked resigned, but too used to such things to complain. “Pffft. Mommy says I have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>share</span>
  </em>
  <span> my uncles. It’s good manners.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint laughed, he just couldn’t help it. Lila, bow case over her shoulder, actually giggled. Pepper just had that ‘what can you do’ look on her face. Happy had disappeared into the house, but Sam was hovering in the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Lila, where are your manners?” Clint teased. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hiya.” She shuffled closer and Clint sighed, not quite nudging her but making it clear she needed to be a bit more polite. Lila relented, slightly. “You okay with being uncles or what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sam laughed. “I’m good with it. Maybe I’ll finally be someone’s favorite.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smirked. “Keep thinking that, Wilson. I’m enjoying winning that one every time.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pepper threw her hands up, though she was smiling. “Ignore your uncles' bad behaviors, Lila. Will you let me steal you away for girl time next week?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe next time?” Lila lifted his arm to tuck herself even closer to him and Clint wondered if he’d have to convince her to sleep in her own bed rather than outside his door. She’d only lost sight of him when she’d been practicing archery in her room. Oh and when he had to piss, which he wasn’t certain she hadn’t hovered in the hallway for. Boundaries were going to have to be set. Really. He’d set them and stick to them. Yep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smiling sadly, Pepper seemed to rally her mood in the blink of an eye. “We have a range here, if you want to check it out.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila perked up, but her wariness was clear. “I’ll stick with Daddy for now, Auntie, but thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe after dinner,” Sam suggested with a bright smile. “Your Dad is awful proud of how good you are.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? Mom says it’s stupid and I should find better hobbies.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, Lila, yes,” Clint murmured, kissing the top of her head. “You are amazing. Don't ever doubt it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She tipped her head back and the bright, happy grin settled Clint further. Even as the others settled in, he didn’t miss Sam’s barely hidden outrage or Bucky’s murder glare returning or even Pepper’s anger. He had a feeling the poor lawyer was going to get an earful from all three of them. Whatever. Laura made her damn bed, she could fuckin’ lay in it. He was done giving a fuck about her.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But, he made a point of attempting to distract everyone. He had limited time with the kids and he wasn’t about to spend it being upset over shit he couldn’t change. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kate and Lila were sizing one another up. While the kids were here, Kate’s lessons were taking place at the mansion and Clint was on vacation from the others. Pepper had insisted and Clint hadn’t fought her on it. It meant the boys were just upstairs and being watched over by the people Clint trusted most in the world. He just wasn’t sure how this would go. He was hoping for the best and preparing to step between the two girls if needed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Your dad says you’ll be a kick ass Hawkeye.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila smiled smugly. “He’s been teaching me since I could hold a baby training bow. Circus tricks too. I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>already </span>
  </em>
  <span>a Hawkeye.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kate grinned. “Is the world ready for </span>
  <em>
    <span>three </span>
  </em>
  <span>Hawkeyes?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It better be.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint laughed long and hard, leaning on the wall of the range. “Warm up, both of you.” He glanced over while the girls started stretching, brow shooting up when Bucky stepped inside. Without Nate attached, which was odd. His youngest, when not attached to Clint, was attached to Bucky these days. “All okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other man smirked. “Yeah, just checking to see if you needed to be rescued. Nate is with Morgan and Coop in the playroom. Coop is supervising, but wants to check out the training room later.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Kate laughed, nearly falling over. “We’d not hurt him!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not on purpose,” Lila qualified, flipping into a backbend and then into a handstand. “Bruises happen, Uncle.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky snickered. “Especially where your Dad is concerned, eh?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila giggled, tucking into a roll and hopping to her feet. “Like I said, bruises happen when a Barton is involved.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No bruises,” Kate said firmly. “The world needs three Hawkeyes. I’ve decided, so it must happen. You get bruised up, Li, and we’ll be down to two.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint winced. Kate was far too good at spying on him apparently. Shit. Everyone, even Kate, knew the rule about not speaking badly about Laura around the kids. No matter what. “Katie-Kate.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She glared. “I’m not wrong!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila grabbed her bow. “She’s not wrong. I’ll be careful. I’m not giving that -”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Lila.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Clint cut her off, knowing his daughter’s temper all too well. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She rolled her eyes. “Finneeee. Whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll leave you three to it. You staying for dinner, Kate?” Bucky asked, already heading for the door again. Clint didn’t miss that the murder glare was back and wondered just what the other man was planning. Or if he’d need an alibi. Shit.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint glanced over to see the question was for Lila. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila shrugged. “Up to you. I know you’re not trying to steal Daddy from us or anything.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, he’s a disaster,” Kate teased. Then she looked almost hesitant. “I could kinda be a big sister if you want though.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Aww, Kate, no. I’m not a disaster.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Both girls shot him knowing looks and Clint sighed. Yeah, he was more than a bit of a disaster but that wouldn’t stop him from at least pretending to not be a total pushover. Okay, it wouldn’t stop him from trying not to be a total pushover. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The clock was ticking and Clint hated it. Two more days and he’d have to say goodbye to his kids until summer vacation. They’d gone to the park and the zoo and baseball games and … well it was a long list. Lila and Cooper were like him, they needed to stay busy. Nate, bless him, was content to follow along (or be carried) and just quietly take everything in. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kids were tucked in. He doubted Lila and Cooper were actually sleeping, but hey, they were in bed so that was a win. Nate had almost fallen asleep in the tub after the very long day. Hell, Clint wanted a damn nap. As it was, he needed to actually get up off the couch and clean up the kitchen. That took energy and since the coffee was too far away to help, he wasn’t moving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His phone lit up and Clint glanced over to see a text from the lawyer: </span>
  <em>
    <span>She’s up to something. We wanted to warn you. It is being handled.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint sighed, curling up under the blanket and tapping the screen, pulling up Bucky’s contact information. Pepper would be going through the same nightly routine he was and Clint didn’t want to interrupt that. He needed to know what was going on though. Bucky was a bit more ‘live in the grey’ than Sam was, so he was Clint’s best bet at answers. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Any idea what my lawyers are in a tizzy over?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The reply was almost immediate. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Open your fucking door and I’ll explain.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint shoved the blanket off and shuffled, barefoot, over to the door. He considered grabbing a hoodie, but that took too much effort and his shirt had been soaked during Nate’s bath. Fuck it. It was his damn house and he could answer the door in sweatpants. He checked the security and then opened the door. Huh. The murder scowl had morphed into Murder Stance. Lovely. Clint just sighed. “You get me coffee. I’m tired.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky just kicked off his boots and closed the door, re-engaging the security. “You’re gonna need more than your usual dozen pots of coffee for this.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint glanced up, thankful the kids bedroom doors were closed, tossing himself over the back of the couch and curling up, already anxious as to why the fuck was wrong now. “Just … watch the wording okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No real way to do that without Lila and Coop figuring what I’m sayin’ anyway.” The other man joined him a few minutes later, coffee cup in hand. “Drink up. I’ll get more.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint rubbed the back of his neck and did as instructed, sitting up and stretching out. Just what the hell was going on?! Wasn’t his life enough of a dumpster fire already?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky nudged his legs aside and sat, carafe in one hand and second mug in the other. Both were set on the table. “You’re not gonna shoot the messenger, are ya?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint sighed. “I don’t have the energy for it. Check back later.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you know that you and I are having an illicit affair and have been for years now?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint would have dropped the cup if Bucky didn’t have super soldier reflexes, but that didn’t stop the coffee from spilling all over his chest. He barely felt the hot coffee burning his chest or registered Bucky throwing him a towel to mop it up. “What?!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You were steppin’ out on her with Natasha too.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the words Clint had been about to say just … died away. He knew he was sputtering and gaping and looking much like a damn fool. It was just … yeah no words. Fuck. He knew he and Laura had been struggling since The Raft incident (okay longer but he didn’t want to think about it), but this was beyond the fuckin’ pale. How dare the bitch sully Nat’s memory like this?! </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry though,” Bucky continued, his tone mocking and yet laced with utter rage. “She won’t tell anyone like the judge, her lawyers, or the tabloids … ya know, if you hand over every last dime and sign away your rights to the kids.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint buried his face in his hands, struggling not to lose all his shit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I said it was better than the speculation over whether Sam and I are fucking, but whatever. ‘Least this way I’m paired up with someone pretty.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint snorted. He’d not been called pretty in fuckin’ years. Dumpster fire. His life was a fuckin’ dumpster fire and Bucky Barnes was calling him pretty. Hadn’t there already been an apocalypse? “‘m not pretty,” he muttered, not sure what else to say. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky laughed, though he sounded more angry than anything. “Not your low self esteem making that judgement. I wanted to slip off to Missouri and take her out. Pepper did too. Sam calmed me down and sent me here. He’s still workin’ on convincing Pep. Or was when I left.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint wondered if he wished hard enough that a hole would appear and whisk him off to Wonderland or whatever. Maybe one of those magic circles Doctor Strange had could appear and make all this shit go away? Which just went to prove how shit his life was that he was actively wishing for magic when he fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>hated </span>
  </em>
  <span>magic thanks to that bastard Norse God fuckin’ with him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought it showed a remarkable lack of self preservation to send her petty threats to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bucky muttered. “Talking out one side of her mouth about how </span>
  <em>
    <span>dangerous</span>
  </em>
  <span> we are and then this? Please tell me your kids got your intelligence.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint’s hands fell and his jaw dropped. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky looked unimpressed. “You didn’t think I bought into your dumb act, right? You forget that I’ve seen your files?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was too fuckin’ much. One damn step too far. Nope. Clint just sort of checked out mentally. When he snapped back, Bucky was sitting in the same place and holding out his coffee mug.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Drink up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry. Damn it. That hasn’t happened in a … while.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You spaced for ten minutes, Clint. It’s fine. I need you in Hawkeye mode… or Ronin … whichever will get you focused on how you want this handled.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint blinked and downed the coffee in one go. “Not pulling any punches, Buck.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other man just shrugged and refilled the cup. “The way I see it, Ronin did what Hawkeye couldn’t. With those utter fuckwits claiming Avengers were still bad and blaming us for that monster’s actions, you took on Ronin to </span>
  <em>
    <span>protect </span>
  </em>
  <span>people. If no one else sees that shit, fuck ‘em.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He finished the entire pot of coffee before his brain was back online fully. “How did you and I have some sort of </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> when you were as … gone … as half the universe was?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Not a clue. Betting she didn’t pay attention enough to know that part though. Still trying to puzzle out if she guessed my preferences or just used yours against both of us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint laid his head back, snickering. “Probably the second option. Unless you've been hitting the clubs or Grindr?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, no. Still getting used to not being worried about going to prison for it actually. Would she really out both of us to be a vindictive …”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“So, think fast about what we’re doing about it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint turned his head, thankful the bedroom doors were still closed. “I have to send them back?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Pep said that has to happen. Two days isn’t enough to get an emergency order from the courts. Plus, there was something about it looking better if they finished out the school year there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How is this my life?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got shitty luck?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. That explains it.” </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It gives the lawyers almost two months before she’s to have them back to you for the summer.” Bucky elbowed him. “Come on, Mr Field Commander, treat this like a mission.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“The most important one ever,” Clint mumbled, already trying to think of how the fuck to fix this shit. “I miss Nat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That garnered a snicker and then a sigh. “She’d have taken care of the problem before the divorce papers were filed. Kinda wish I had done that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tears slid down his face and Clint couldn’t be bothered to be embarrassed or even move to wipe them away. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. So damn tired. One thing. He just wanted </span>
  <em>
    <span>one damn thing</span>
  </em>
  <span> to go right. It never did though. No matter how hard he tried.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Tomorrow, bright and early, you’re picking up your new pet, yeah?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh yeah, that had happened. Like he needed another thing to worry about. But, the kids had wanted a dog so they were getting a dog. Because his life wasn’t fucked enough. He just sighed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m bunking on the couch then. We can swing by the mansion and start on the plan of attack I’m certain you’ll have come up with after we get the dog.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Why bother?” Damn, he sounded as hopeless and petulant as he felt. Shit. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky hauled him up and towards the stairs. “I’ve got enough faith for both of us until you find yours. The dog will do you good.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint didn’t even bother protesting as he was hauled up and to his room. Or when he was tossed in the bed and his aids carefully removed. Tomorrow, when he wasn’t feeling so fuckin’ raw and useless, he’d push back. He rolled, curling up and allowing the exhaustion to drag him under. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The kitchen was spotless. Hell, the downstairs portion of the apartment was spotless. Clint just stumbled over to the coffee pot, drinking three whole cups before he registered the food laid out on the counter. Still half asleep, he blearily took in the sight of Bucky freakin’ Barnes braiding Lila’s hair. The boys were still sleeping, he’d checked both of their bedrooms before coming downstairs. But … he just poured more coffee. He couldn’t process anything yet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You need food, Daddy,” Lila said, signing clumsily as she spoke. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>She grinned. “YouTube and an awesome website the school librarian found for us. Books at the school library too.” Then she sighed. “Coop and I tried joining the ASL club, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t sign the permission forms.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Rage burned away drowsiness. Was nothing too fuckin’ low for Laura these days? “Can I?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. Form is waiting at Pep’s. She’ll get it directly to the school,” Bucky offered, tying off the braid far more neatly than Clint could have this early. “Lila and I are the early birds so we cooked. Eat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint grabbed a pancake and a couple slices of bacon, rolling them together. He heard a loud thud and was back upstairs in under a minute, only tripping twice on the stairs. The boys were fine, thankfully, but Cooper had knocked over a lamp in Nate’s room and was looking guilty about it. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just thought I could help Nate and I turned and bumped it and I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t be mad. Or be mad and ground me from something, whatever.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint grinned, and gave Cooper a one armed hug. Inside he was angry. He recognized stress apologizing, mainly because he did the same damn thing. He hated that Cooper had picked up that particular habit. “I knock stuff over all the time, buddy. It’s fine.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper finally stopped apologizing, looking sheepish instead.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nate rubbed his eyes. “Up.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint did as instructed. “You two hungry? Bucky and Lila made pancakes and bacon. They even cut up apples for us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper was out the door and clattering down the stairs before Clint made it to the bedroom door. Nate pointed towards the bathroom and Clint set him down. They’d all noticed how Nate was pushing the ‘baby’ thing and (yay for having mental health professionals on speed dial) had been instructed to encourage independence, but not force it. He’d only been three for the Snap and was still confused some days about how so many things were different. Clint felt for him, it was a lot for a five almost six year old to understand. Hell most adults were still reeling from it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Apparently, kids reacted to divorce and other big changes in a million different ways. Lila (because teenagers) was as rebellious as humanly possible. Clint thought it was more apt to say “because she’s a Barton” but whatever. Cooper seemed eager to do whatever would please the adults around him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried Clint. He’d been the same as a kid, eager to do whatever wouldn’t set his drunken and abusive father off into a rage. He’d have been more comfortable with both teens acting out if he was honest about it. The psychologist had made it clear to him that assurances worked wonders. She also said that she’d be happy to have more sessions with all three kids over the summer to make sure they were “appropriately processing”. Clint was fine with it so long as it helped his babies get through this dumpster fire. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go on, kiddo. Need help brushing your teeth?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh huh.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be right there.” He turned to glance down into the kitchen, the conversation from the night before still dancing around in his head. Bucky was helping Cooper without hovering and Clint couldn’t help but wonder why. But, that was for later. For now, he needed to get Nate to brush his teeth and eat something more than bacon. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Then they’d get the dog and try to map a way out of this mess that wouldn’t damage his babies any more than they already were. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He nearly fell out of the bed when Bucky appeared in the bedroom doorway, still in his new armor. Clint caught (yay for reading lips) just enough to know that he was, apparently, not pleased. He didn’t scramble fast enough and was hauled over Bucky’s shoulder and dumped in the shower stall, the water on and shampoo dumped over his head before Clint recovered from the vertigo which meant he’d probably forgotten to eat for a couple of days. Oops?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint slid the permission form across the table to Pepper, keeping one eye on the kids playing in the yard with their new dog, Lucky. Morgan was with them, laughing and petting the one-eyed dog, who looked happy to lay in the sun and have four kids spoiling him. Sam was watching over them, grinning widely. “I plan missions and battles, Pep! I am so far out of my depth here I’m lucky I’ve not drowned already.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky kicked him in the shin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint kicked him back, glaring. “The fuck was that for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me kick you again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t make me slap both of you upside the head,” Pepper interjected. “Behave.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He started it,” Clint pointed out sullenly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were being dumb.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Boys!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint winced. “Sorry. Damn it. I’m just at a loss. She dragged </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he waved his hand Bucky’s way, “and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nat</span>
  </em>
  <span> into her bullshit! I feel shitty enough about that. Fucks sake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t give a single, solitary fuck what she tries to say about me,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m just pissed off that I can’t skin her alive for dragging you and your fucking kids through his shit because she’s a psychotic nutcase!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint blinked. Words failed, again. Damn it. He managed to gather his thoughts. “She was fine. I mean, until, I showed up during the whole Ultron mess with everyone in tow. Getting tossed in The Raft made it worse. Apparently, I was to keep my family and my work totally separate. What the fuck ever. She … she wasn’t always this crazy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper sighed. “Well, damn. I’m seeing it now. Clint, brother of my heart, do not make excuses or blame yourself or forgive her for this shit. Just don’t. I’ll make Bucky kick your ass for it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seeing what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Natasha and I had a chat, Clint. She told me a few things about your habit of forgiving even the worst fucking betrayals. Wanted to make sure you had someone in your corner if something happened to her. To be clear, I actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> you and would have done it anyway. So, yes, don’t make me sic Bucky on you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She did what?” He was still stuck on that bit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Made contingencies.” Pepper leaned over and laid her hand over his. “Natasha is still watching out for you, pal. Deal with it in your own time, but don’t think you can try your usual tricks to get me to back off. She’d find a way to haunt your ass if you tried it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s not wrong,” Bucky interjected musingly. “Probably find a way to kick your ass in ghostly form too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint just let his head drop on the table with a loud ‘thunk’. “I want the kids. If she’s gonna be this … unhinged … I want them. I thought I could just deal, since Coop and Lila will be eighteen soon enough. She’d have less leverage that way and they could decide to visit whenever they wanted. I can’t though. Can’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How do you see us making that happen?” Pepper had her no nonsense voice going on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I vote killing her. I can, quite competently, make her disappear ya know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not sure whether to laugh or encourage Bucky, Clint just … sat there, head on the table and tried to formulate a plan. He knew Laura was just reacting badly, like so many were, after coming back from the soul realm. He didn’t want to do anything too … and it clicked. He groaned. He was doing what he always did, making excuses and handing out forgiveness like it was candy. Fuck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No killing. They’d think it was Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clint?” Bucky nudged him rather than outright kicking this time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want my fuckin’ kids, Pep. Do what the fuck ever it takes. Legally. Legal only, Barnes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ohh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Barnes</span>
  </em>
  <span> is it? Ya went there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint snickered. “Figured it would get your attention.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper did that “hmmmm” thing that usually meant she had ideas. “We could make this work in your favor. Actually, it would work in </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>favor. Avengers-wise, I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you both are okay with coming out … Think you two can be adults and at least pretend to date?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint's head shot up, his eyes wide. “Huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had that maniacal grin going on. “Well, she threatened to out you both. Get ahead of it. Half the tabloids are speculating anyway. It’d mean interviews and some of that shit you both hate, but for a good cause.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Ohh,” Bucky murmured, sounding thoughtful. “You want us as your out and proud LGBT Avengers, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but also no. I want you two to be yourselves. Encourage LGBT kids like Clint already does hearing impaired kids and you do with amputees. You both give time to those causes, yes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint ran a hand over the back of his neck, hoping he wasn’t blushing as much as he thought he was. “I don’t give a shit. I've never hidden being bi or pan or whatever label I fall under these days. Hell, Lila knows because she had questions after one of her friends came out so I answered honestly. I’ll do interviews, I guess. Doesn’t mean Bucky should be saddled with </span>
  <em>
    <span>dating</span>
  </em>
  <span> me, Pep. We can all agree I’m a disaster and my life is a dumpster fire. He piss you off or something?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky kicked him, hard. “Don’t be a jackass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“For once, I wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You really need to work on your self esteem.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint sighed. Bucky wasn’t wrong. But, that was a lifelong problem and he was far too old to change it now. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll also be taking over training the Young Avengers now that they’re all moving in next month, Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, Pep, no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, Clint, yes.” She gave him that gimlet stare that scared everyone - even Tony and Steve back in the day. “Kate already thinks you’re awesome, Yelena refuses to work with anyone but you, America is fine with it, and Peter … he needs you too, Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t do that and do the archery lessons -”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper cut him off. “You want the kids full time, I’ll make sure as hell to get you the kids full time. That means you’ll only get Avengers calls when it’s all hands on deck, just like I am. Or Scott is. Or Hope. You know that’s the same as S.H.I.E.L.D. has you listed. The other archery thing can be when you have time to be a drop in instructor.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re just trying to keep me busy.” Shit that sounded petulant. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She just grinned. “I’m utilizing you in the best way I can. The kids </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, pal.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finneeee.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper stood, smiling smugly. “I need to go, the Board needs a swift kick and I can’t wait to do it. You two let me know what you decide so I can reach out and get interviews scheduled, Clint, I hate to push, but we should do it before she gets impatient or slapped with another contempt of court fine. Or extortion charges.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint thunked his head on the table again. There was only one way to handle this without forcing Bucky to freaking date him. “Set up the stupid interviews for me. I’ll scream into the void about how happily gay I am if it shuts the bitch up. No wearing a damn suit for that shit though, Pep!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t think this means you can go overboard and make us sit on a Pride float or something,” Bucky warned. “Figure a way for me to come out quietly, but firmly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was up and out the doors leading to the backyard before Bucky was done speaking. There was a ton more shit to shovel, but for now he’d done what he could. He’d have to pull Lila and Cooper aside later and explain so they weren't blindsided at school when this hit the news. Nate too, but in a way a kindergartener would understand. Yeah, if his life was a movie it’d be tiled “Dumpster fire”. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The kids had been gone three days. Maybe four. Or more? He’d sorta lost track.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint had three video calls with the lawyers and two video interviews with reporters. What he’d not done was leave his apartment. Hell, he wasn’t sure where he’d dumped his aids after finishing the last call with the lawyers. While they claimed he had a very strong case, it would take time for it to work through the system. His “good behavior” and willingness to set up counselling for the kids were apparently the “right” things to do. The part of his brain where Ronin lived didn’t think so. Nah, the Ronin part of him thought Bucky had it right. Disappear the bitch and move on. The more rational part of his brain reminded him that at least acting like a responsible adult was the only way to do this. Even the Hawkeye part of his brain kept suggesting explosive arrows. He was a mess. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper had come by, sans Morgan, to check on him but he’d otherwise been left alone. Kate had stolen Lucky while he was taking the kids to the airport and claimed via text to be his other owner. Clint hadn’t had it in him to argue. He was too busy actively not losing all his shit the first day. It had been one thinly veiled threat after another from Laura. Over the damn app that </span>
  <em>
    <span>the court watched</span>
  </em>
  <span>! He was fairly certain if Bucky and Sam hadn’t been called away the day the kids left, that they'd been poking at him too. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He nearly fell out of the bed when Bucky appeared in the bedroom doorway, still in his new armor. Clint caught (yay for reading lips) just enough to know that he was, apparently, not pleased. He didn’t scramble fast enough and was hauled over Bucky’s shoulder and dumped in the shower stall, the water on and shampoo dumped over his head before Clint recovered from the vertigo which meant he’d probably forgotten to eat for a couple of days. Oops?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Five minutes.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Was all Bucky signed before stomping back out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint took the man at his word, scrubbing himself off and leaving the soaking wet sweatpants in the shower. He’d barely managed to wrap the towel around his waist when he was hit in the face with clean sweatpants, boxers, and a t-shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Pizza. Downstairs.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint dressed, spotting his aids on the counter but ignoring them for now. He’d rather not be yelled at with the low grade headache and empty stomach. Fuck. When had he last bothered with coffee? Food? Ugh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stumbled, more so than usual, down and slumped on one of the kitchen stools. The couch seemed too damn far. The pizza box was slid over and then a cup of coffee. He nearly snickered at the hasty ‘EAT, damn it, Clint!’ scrawled on the top of the box. Sanity, even the slippery hold he had in it currently, prevailed. Yeah, he got it. He’d finished off half the pizza and four cups of coffee before the cup was replaced with a glass of water. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The stool was spun, making his head spin too. Bucky had his murder glare going on, though at some point he’d traded out his armor for one of Clint’s hoodies and a too long pair of jogging pants. He shrugged, not having much to say for himself. Depression was a bitch and he’d spiralled. Not much he could do about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Better?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged again, downing the water because he knew better. He damn well did. Grey blue eyes narrowed. Clint winced. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I get it. I do. Next time call. Text. Something. Got it.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Do not need a babysitter.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighed, running a hand over his face. Clint just waited, sure he was about to get another speech about taking care of himself and blah blah blah. ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not babysitter. Friend.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint stared at the wall over Bucky’s shoulder. He just shrugged. It was easier to not talk, not try to explain. Otherwise he’d stress apologize and damn it, he’d been trying to be better about that. His therapist was proud. His aids were held out, about an inch from the end of his nose. Clint took them and very deliberately set them on the counter. Bucky moved back into his field of vision. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Wanna beat people up?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It probably made him a horrible person, but this was the most interested he’d been about anything in days. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Yes!’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Eat.’ </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Some sort of salad was pushed in his hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, salad, no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swore Bucky smiled, if only for a moment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Nutrition or no beating up people.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint sighed heavily and set the salad next to the glass on the counter. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Bet she has me followed. No fights, no need for salad.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky did laugh at that. </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘You get to beat Sam up.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint ate the salad. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then he allowed himself to be hauled off to the mansion - even putting his aids in and actually turning them on - and ended up staying over in his old set of rooms. Pepper had looked relieved. So had Sam. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint promised himself to do better. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Mid-May Pepper marched into the training room, shooed off all four Avengers-in-Training, and then called in her suit. Bucky and Happy trailed in not long after, eyeing her warily, and joining Clint as far away from the livid woman as they could be and still be in the same room. Once she’d destroyed five training bots, she seemed to deflate. The suit shifted away and all that was left was pretty much any sane person’s nightmare. Pepper Potts was not one to fuck with on a good day. This was clearly not a good day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pep, just talk it out?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glared at Happy. “I’m a calm person! I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>nice</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I do not lose my shit!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint took a hesitant step forward, only to be yanked back by the neck of his shirt. Bucky strode forward instead. “Who do I need to kill, Pep?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She choked out a harsh laugh. “No killing. Not </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The penny dropped and Clint fell against the wall. “What has the bitch done now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is not on you, Clint. Not one bit. I’ll let Bucky beat you up if you try and say it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Just tell me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy winced. “Yeah, she tried to drain your bank account. The public one that she and the courts know about.” Happy ran a hand over his gun as if picturing all the ways he wanted to use it. “She also tried to sell the farm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint slid down the wall and pulled his knees up, laying his head on them. The urge to scream until he passed out was difficult to push down and away. He knew it was Bucky that came to sit with him even without looking. Fucks sake. He needed to stop thinking she’d gone as low as possible. Laura always found a way to prove him wrong as of late. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lawyers know?” Bucky asked, leaning in to brush Clint’s shoulder lightly with his own. It was a mild comfort, but a comfort nonetheless. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. This should speed up the process.” Pepper laid a hand on his arm. “You know I have the best damn lawyers in your corner, Clint. They, and the bank, stopped her. The farm is in a trust for the kids, she should have known better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sam is off doing recon now,” Happy assured him. “Making sure she doesn’t try to slip off with the kids in the middle of the night. The farm security feed is watched by FRIDAY too. The kids are safe. That is what is important.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lila was worried during the last video call. I could tell, but Laura refused to leave the room like she’s supposed to. I couldn’t ask and risk getting her in more trouble. She and Coop were grounded, apparently, for going behind Laura’s back about the ASL club.” He wasn’t going to cry, no matter how much the stupid therapist said it was okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She tried to petition the courts,” Pepper almost whispered. “Lawyers batted it down today. Her basis to block you from them this time was you coming out and having a gay dad was bad for the kids.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone remind me why I can’t kill her </span>
  <em>
    <span>now?</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint managed a light laugh. “Aww, Buck, no. I mean, yes, but also no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you sell your soul for patience when I wasn’t looking?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Making a half ass attempt to swat the other man, Clint finally lifted his head. “So that’s why she made the dumb threats. It was a long game play. She knew I’d come out and then she could use that against me. Fucks sake.” He glared at Bucky. “Nah, wouldn’t be worth anything if I tried.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper slapped him upside the head. “Stop it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, Pep, no. Ouch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She glared. “Then don’t say stupid lies about yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time, I punch you,” Bucky warned. “The kids are supposed to be here in less than three weeks. What needs to happen before then?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Lila is doing an archery day camp. She asked before anyone hits me for that too. Coop wanted to do the baseball camp. I found a thing for kids Nate’s age. It’s age appropriate art or something. The therapist said it would be good to get him out amongst kids his age.” Clint sighed, feeling like he’d done nothing else for the last year. “They run the first two weeks the kids are here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper ruffled his hair. “Nice! Morgan is going to science camp at the same time, so it works out well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky and Clint both winced. Clint braced for another slap. “You sure that’s wise, Pep? She might blow something up just to show the other kids how awesome she is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy snickered. “I’ll be there to make sure nothing … Starkesque happens.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh huh,” Bucky teased, “until you encourage her. We know your game, Happy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Back on task.” Pepper huffed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I dunno what else I’m supposed to do,” Clint admitted. “They have therapy appointments too. Pep set them up with a pediatrician and dentist should they need either while here. I’m to be all saintly and shit, so what else can I do?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pepper got to her feet and smiled. “Lila and Coop should spend time with the other Young Avengers. They are all close enough in age. Morgan definitely wants sleepovers with Nate too. You need adult time, pal of mine. Figure it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint watched her leave, utterly confused. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Happy just shook his head as if he was disappointed about something and all but ran out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What just happened?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky elbowed him in the ribs. “You have your orders. Adult time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint blushed bright red. “The fuck! She didn’t mean go get laid … did she?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just laughed until he fell over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was kept busy the next few weeks. Not just training the Young Avengers, but also by his well meaning friends. It wasn’t until Lila mentioned “in four days when we’re with you” did he truly realize how much time had passed since Laura’s last fit of insanity. Not that he wasn’t excited, he’d just been distracted enough not to stress over dates. The electronic calendar (thanks to Bucky) that now lived on his fridge had the date circled in purple and the time he needed to be ready for the airport too. The kids were excited. Hell, even Lucky was excited. The dog was always right there, butting his head against Clint, so the kids could see him on the screen. Not one single call had been missed since Laura got slapped with a warning from the court about wasting the court's time with frivolous complaints.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nope. He shoved that bullshit away and focused on his ‘mission’. Okay cleaning wasn’t a mission, but thinking of it that way helped him concentrate and actually finish it instead of getting distracted halfway through.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Yeah, he was actually cleaning (thanks Pepper for threatening to send a maid) the entire apartment. The thought of anyone touching his stuff, even one vetted by Pepper and her geniuses, gave him anxiety. Cleaning was better than doing something drastic like going for a run or voluntarily exercising. Actually, a run-in with Ivan and his merry band of tracksuit morons would actually burn off some of his anxiety. But, alas, those particular morons had been quiet the last few months. Clint wasn’t sure why and figured they were planning something big, but that was a problem for Future Clint. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His phone flashed from where he’d tossed it on the coffee table. Keeping it in sight helped his anxiety. The door opened before Clint saw more than the </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have food </span>
  </em>
  <span>portion of Bucky’s text. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint just sighed. He finished picking up the stack of pizza boxes that had been piled next to the sofa and stacked them with the other trash that needed to go out. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The maid threat worked?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Better than my security.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just rolled his eyes and set the bag and pizza boxes on the counter. “You know it unlocks for me. I’m not actually breaking in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint grinned. “Not gonna stop me from having my fun over it, Buck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You could just let Pep have her way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint shrugged, making grabby hands for the pizza boxes only to have them slid out of reach by a smirking Bucky. “Hey! I’ve worked hard and deserve pizza.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The pizza goes into your fridge. Lunch is in here.” Bucky slid over the cloth eco friendly bag and shook his head. “You need something other than pizza.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint ignored the not so gentle poke to take more care with his eating habits, too busy making happy noises when he pulled out all manner of Greek food from the bag. “I will, when the kids are here. I’ll even let them see me eating gross veggies like a good parent. Ohhhh, baklava!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Plates, Clint.” Bucky, who somewhere along the line had become comfortable enough to just get stuff himself, laid out plates and flatware. “Pep’s on some sort of kick about making schedules. Check your Avengers email, would ya?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint moved around, grabbing the coffee and getting another pot going before tipping his head towards the coffee table. “Phone is over there. Laptop,” he paused to consider it and tipped his head towards the bookcase, “over there. Be a pal and explain or pull up whatever you’re on about.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That would mean I knew your passwords.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint snickered, flipping the pot on and turning back to dole out the food. “Bold of you to presume I have passwords.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky stomped over to grab the laptop, muttering. He was back and getting the laptop booted up before Clint had finished their plates. “You now have an official Stark Scheduler. Be happy, make smiling faces when you see Pep next. Thank her, for fucks sake.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint rolled his eyes. “See, making presumptions again. Who says I’d remember to look at the damn thing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked a bit too smug for Clint’s comfort. “Who said you need to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint rested his hip on the counter. “I have to see the damn thing for it to be useful, Buck. Duh.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The laptop was flipped around. There was a new icon, bright purple and his official Hawkeye arrow shape. Bucky tapped the screen. Up popped some complicated looking color coded calendar. “Aww, schedule, no.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, yes,” Bucky retorted, smiling and shaking his head. “It is on your phone too. It’s basically run by FRIDAY’s baby brother WALDO -” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like the kids book </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where’s Waldo</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky reached over and poked him in the ribs. “Morg named it. You’ll be a good uncle and tell her how smart she was picking that name.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint giggled and then outright laughed. “Fuck, she’s so like Tony it’s crazy sometimes. WALDO because it tells you where you are and where you need to be, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Exactly. Sam owes me twenty, by the way, so thanks for that. I said you’d get it and he figured your kids didn’t know the books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shoved a plate in Bucky’s hands and then dropped a fork on top. “For that, I have ideas. Pffft. Every parent knows those books.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyeing him speculatively, Bucky settled in on one of the stools. “Do I want to know?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint plopped down next to the man and ate instead of answering. He knew exactly how long to string it out before the other man broke. But, distraction would make his fun last a bit longer. “Program. Work. Explain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He paid attention to the explanation, not even thinking about refilling their plates as needed. It wasn’t until the summer vacation/time with his kids popped up when it was tapped (the mini holo screen actually hovered just above the laptop screen which was still sort of weird) that Clint groaned. “What the fuck?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Adult time</span>
  </em>
  <span> was neatly typed one evening a week starting at 6pm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky burst out laughing. “It means time away from the kids, jackass.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint kicked out, idly though because he didn’t really take offence, his kick landing with a soft “oof” but no retaliation. It had to be done or else Bucky would start quizzing him about feeling okay. The other man scowled. Clint stuck out his tongue, because yes left to their own devices the two of them did indeed act like children half the time. “Yeah, yeah. Kinda opposite of the goal of me having them here though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A plummy British voice announced, “Guidance from Dr Martin states that parents and children should have adequate time away from one another to foster a good sense of independence and for mental health and wellbeing. I can display the directive if needed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint ran a hand over the back of his neck. Fucks sake, when had talking to AI’s become this routine? He felt old. “No thanks though, WALDO. Can you display suggested activities and if sex is on here I might just lose my shit, just a warning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The damn AI snickered. “Ms Potts thought you might say that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A second holo screen appeared. Clint scanned the list, dismissing half the shit on it. He wasn’t one for Broadway even before his hearing went to shit again. Same for MOMA. Modern art was bullshit. Hell, half of Nate’s drawings made more sense than most ‘modern art’. He’d been to every damn museum back in the day with Nat and couldn’t see a reason to go again - at least not without the kids in tow. He hated movies in the theatre (crowds made him twitchy and shit hearing made it wasted money). The ballet had potential. He just wasn’t sure it wouldn’t remind him too much of Nat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Bucky shoulder bumped him. “What got that look on your face?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint grabbed the box of baklava and concentrated on downing three pieces before the box was yanked out of his hands. “Aww, dessert, come back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can have it back when you explain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scowling, he relented. The murder glare didn’t affect him, but the obvious concern did. Damn it. “Nat and I used to go to the ballet between missions. She wanted to take the kids but …”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WALDO, please display all the ballets running while the kids are here. Matinees only.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Confused, Clint just let it go. He scanned the list, smiling softly when he saw </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Firebird</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “That one,” he murmured, tapping the holo screen. “Lila and Coop will love it as much as Nat did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I suggest alternate activities for Morgan and Nate during the performance?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, Clint took back the ‘weird' and ‘making him feel old’ complaints. AIs made life so much easier. “Yes, please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The aquarium is holding a session on sharks during that time. It is age appropriate for the children. Shall I book tickets?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Check with Pep first,” Clint said, managing to grab another piece of baklava out of the box without getting his hand smacked. Success!</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ms Potts believes these are excellent plans. You have the Stark box seats for the ballet and tickets have been booked for Morgan and Nate. Happy will accompany the younger children to the aquarium. Shall I forward clothing options for the ballet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint buried his face in his hands. “Do you mean from my actual wardrobe or you talking new crap I’ll have to be fitted for?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky roared with laughter when WALDO’s reply was, “The appointment for yourself and Cooper with the tailor has been added to the schedule.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint’s head shot up as another thought occurred to him. Well, other than Cooper’s reaction to wearing a suit. “Can you check if Pep would be willing to do a girl day thing with Lila before the ballet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The reply was dry as a desert. “It’s already on the schedule, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint just shook his head. Of course it was. Why had he bothered asking?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky poked at his ribs. “This isn’t planning non-kid shit to do, Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Naps. Lots of naps. And pizza. Yep. Oh look, plans made.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Clint</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was poked awake. Okay, not poked but still. The stare thing Bucky did was just as good as a poke to the ribs in his opinion. He had been sleeping soundly thanks so much. He didn’t move. Not until he smelled the coffee. He blinked, rubbing his eyes, not too terribly surprised to see Bucky standing close enough for the coffee to be a good motivator to move. Clint sat up quickly, not bothering to grab for the blankets as he made grabby hands towards the coffee. He had priorities and coffee was at the top of that list. “Ugh. Early. Go ‘way. Leave coffee.” The other man just rolled his eyes and walked away with the coffee. “Aww, coffee, no. Come back.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When it was clear he wasn’t getting coffee in bed (which was rude), Clint rolled out, managed to trip over the clothes he’d stripped out of the night before and stumbled into his bathroom naked. His aids were still in the bedroom, but he had a feeling this was about Pepper muttering about the state of his clothes. Damn it. Would she really sic Bucky on him over fuckin’ clothes? He fumbled with the controls and stepped into the shower, not bothering to answer his own incredibly stupid question. Of course she would.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He dressed and put his aids in (and on damn it) before making his way downstairs. “Aww, coffee, yes!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky had made himself at home on the couch and was already drinking coffee. “Drink coffee. Wake up. We’re going shopping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t bother to complain. He did, however, eat three muffins and finished the pot of coffee (and started another to brew) before he went looking for his shoes. He didn’t bother questioning why Bucky was reciting baseball statistics. For all he knew it was part of his therapy and it would be shitty to comment on it. He found his purple Converse under the bed. He’d cleaned damn it, so why? Not functioning enough to think about it, he went back down and was surprised to find his travel cup already filled with coffee and ready to go. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll need it. Don’t worry, there’s a half dozen coffee shops where we’re going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate clothes shopping,” Clint whined, pouting for good measure. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pepper’s orders.” Bucky planted his hands in the middle of Clint’s back and steered him towards the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which opened because FRIDAY clearly hated him. “Rude!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I promised you coffee. Hell, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>made</span>
  </em>
  <span> you coffee and brought muffins.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was fair. Clint got moving on his own before he was shoved at the stairs. Damn it, he liked his clothes comfortably worn in. Ugh. But, he wasn’t stupid enough to argue. “You’re buying lunch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky snorted. “Yes, Clint. Of course, Clint.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They had a car waiting and Clint concentrated on his coffee rather than asking where they were going. In fact, he basically trailed after the other man, not even complaining about actually trying clothes on. There had been mutterings from more than one store employee about color and style preferences, which yay Bucky fielded and left Clint to just accept the inevitability of the whole thing. It wasn’t until the third store and two top offs of his coffee that Clint was fully functioning enough to work up any objections. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no way,” he said, shoving the door of the fitting room or what the fuck ever they were called, open and stomping out. He shoved the sleeves of the shirt up, or attempted to. He’d barely gotten the stupid thing on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just sorta blinked. His head tipped and then he smirked. “No, you’re getting that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint turned on his heels and stomped back in, pulling the dark purple Henley style shirt back off, though it was more like freaking peeling the sleeves off. Damn it. This was why he liked his comfortably worn clothes! They actually fucking fit. He knew all the workouts and years of archery meant his shoulders and arms weren’t exactly proportional to the rest of him. It wasn’t like he could just magically fucking fit into shit. Ugh. This was stupid. Back in his comfortably oversized hoodie, Clint dumped the stack of clothes in Bucky’s lap. He barely noticed the whispered conversation between the other man and the store employee halting at his reappearance. “Are we done </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky shot him an unreadable look, but shrugged. “Pepper made the list, Clint. I’m just keeping both of us out of trouble by actually following it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suspicious, Clint finished off his coffee and then pouted. “That wasn’t a no and I’m out of coffee again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky handed the stack of clothes to the waiting employee. “Have those sent to the address on file, please. The payment particulars should be on file as well.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ms Potts arranged it all.” She smiled brightly. “I can do that, sirs. If you take a left out of our main doors, there is a coffee shop three doors down on the right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was already on the move, but called over his shoulder, “Thank you. I mean it. Coffee is life.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He swore he heard both her and Bucky snicker, but Clint was going to ignore it. He could smell the coffee once he got out of the shop. He wasn’t going to think about all the nice clothes he’d have to be careful wearing or how to make sure his comfy clothes didn’t get disappeared until after coffee. And food. Bucky owed him lunch.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>--**--</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Squinting, he managed to get the coffee brewing and then considered the canister of coffee and the large spoon he used as a scoop only about half a second. He needed caffeine stat, so he dug into the container and ate a heaping teaspoon full of grounds, sighing happily. </p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>One more chapter (and bonus scene) tomorrow!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>--**--</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He really should feel something other than ridiculous dressed in one of the many outfits he and Bucky had shopped for, but really. Clint wasn’t fancy clothes and fancier events. Clint was circuses and run down houses and hole in the wall pizza joints and bars. He knew better than meeting the plane in his old clothes though. The Pepper lecture wasn’t worth the momentary glee at saying fuck it and being comfortable.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pepper was in a last minute meeting, so Happy, one of the lawyers, and Morgan (because the munchkin had a killer pout and had wanted to ride along) had gone to get the kids. Sam had been called to the UN to discuss something regarding the Young Avengers and Clint hated that he wasn’t there for it, because he should have been. He was the Avenger in charge of the teens and damn it it sucked. But, he also always would put his kids first, so he was thankful Sam had volunteered. Sam did better with the UN people anyway. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled on his new purple Converse (the old ones were locked in his weapons locker just in fuckin’ case Pepper got any ideas) and caught himself on the counter before he could fall over. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have the same expression as you did facing the Doombots the first time. She didn’t send more threats, did she?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint blushed, rubbing the back of his neck and shrugged, looking anywhere but the man sitting on his couch. “I get what Pepper is saying, the whole present yourself as a well put together, responsible adult. I do. I just don’t have to like it.” Flustered, he babbled on, “I think this fuckin’ shirt costs more than my entire wardrobe, non Pepper purchased, combined! I’m gonna rip it or spill something on it. I know I am!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was up and standing in front of Clint in a matter of seconds. “Hey. Clint, deep breath okay? She’s not gonna give a damn if you do. Not a single one. You know that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint tugged at the hem and stared at his feet, grateful the weather had warmed enough he could wear one of the short sleeved ones at least. Not that it fit right, though better than he thought it had in the store. Ugh, he felt ridiculous. It was purple so there was that. Still. This wasn’t him. This wasn’t dumpster fire Clint freaking Barton. God, he felt like a moron. Like some kid playing dress up. He was fucking purple spandex and leather. Bows and arrows. Fucks sake, what had Pepper thought it would accomplish?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was stupid and his anxiety was stupid and he was stupid and it all was stupid and-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Clint</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The combination of Bucky’s voice and Lucky bumping his leg caught him and stopped the downward spiral - for now - and he was able to take stock and pull himself back. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Better?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged, utterly mortified that he’d freaked out over something so ridiculous. “Thanks.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky just sighed. “Her heart is in the right place, ya know.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. It’s stupid. Ugh. Can we just go?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky handed him his bow case and whistled for Lucky, grabbing the leash. “We can. We’re also going to lunch after. Before you get twitchy over it, I suggested the place. It’s family owned and is basically a hole in the wall sorta Italian place about eight blocks from here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint was so damn grateful he still had someone watching his back, but the words got stuck in his throat. Hell, Bucky’d probably kick him for it anyway. So, Clint hooked his bow case over his shoulder and followed the other man and the dog out and down to the waiting car. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>America giggled. “I still have no clue how you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> that!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint rolled his eyes, still mostly upside down as he slid down the aerial silk, hitting the targets as he went. “Concentration.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It is a Barton thing.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t surprised when the gathered teens, his own kids included, just nodded along with Yelena’s declaration. She was quiet, much like Nat had been at the beginning. Efficient. Sometimes a bit snotty. But, she was adapting. She was also reaching out, by way of language lessons, to the others. It was nice seeing the teens slowly forming a working group of friends rather than just a working group. He knew that Cooper had been making the effort this summer to try and befriend Peter, the two of them being the only boys of the group. So far as Clint knew. No one had asked for different names or pronouns, so he was going with what he knew currently. He focused back on the conversation.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s a Hawkeye thing,” Kate teased. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah and you’re practically </span>
  <em>
    <span>half Barton</span>
  </em>
  <span> at this point.” Clint stumbled and botched his landing at the low, teasing voice. Bucky just shook his head and caught him. “Broken bones won’t get you out of the appointment with the tailor.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t need to go. Really, I have no need - ”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper snorted, lightly elbowing Peter. “Nopeeee. All the ladies get spa days and we get suits. Suck it up, Pete.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yelena lifted one brow and Peter blushed and gave up. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Go, get changed. No one wants to see what happens when Pepper’s schedules get thrown off,” Clint said, stepping away from the silk (and Bucky) and trying not to laugh at the speed in which the teens scattered. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“She’d just blame you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint laughed. “Still not sure how you got roped in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The other man helped him gather up the detritus of the short morning training session. “Your kids pouted and demanded I go along to the ballet. I can make excuses…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Clint facepalmed, not sure why the idea of Bucky not going with them had caused him anxiety. It was probably that it would mean the kids were doubly protected. Yeah, that had to be it. “Jeez, not what I meant, Buck. I meant the whole suit fitting crap. Of course you’re welcome to go with us.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smiled and they finished cleaning up before heading to the kitchen where everyone was gathering before heading out to their appointments. This was just a final fitting and pickup for the guys of the group, who had already endured two previous fittings. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The matinee performance had been cancelled (allegedly), so they were going to an evening showing. Nate and Morgan were still going to the aquarium but were having a sleepover with Pepper, Happy, and Sam watching over them later. Clint wasn’t going to ask why the performance had been cancelled mainly because he figured Pepper was up to something and he didn’t particularly want to know what it was. Life was much easier that way. It probably was about easing him into doing ‘adult’ things of a non sexual nature. He probably should have just given in and made some sort of list initially and figured out later how to get out of doing all the crap on the list. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint stopped mid-step and groaned. Bucky neatly stepped around him instead of plowing him over thankfully. Shit. At the questioning look, Clint rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I get it. Finally. She’s kicking my ass in her own Pepper way, isn’t she?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky smirked. “Took ya this long? You do realize that she’ll have the kids picked up by Happy after and expects us to go do something while she supervises the sleepover here, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint eyed him. “Like what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shorter man shrugged. “Not a fucking clue, but we should figure out something or find ourselves at some fancy restaurant where the entire meal costs more than a reasonably priced car and is all of three bites total.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s a hole in the wall bar not far from my apartment. They have pool tables and a dart board?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Sold.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint just shook his head and pushed the kitchen door open. Morgan and Nate were at the table having what looked to be an early lunch. Both were talking nonstop about sharks and he went directly over, kissing them both in the top of their heads. It did his heart good to see Nate so damn happy. That was what was important. Not Pepper’s plots or his inability to figure out shit to do when he wasn’t focused on the Young Avengers or his kids. If he could figure out how to make his kids happy as often as possible, Clint didn’t give a shit about anything else.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had been far too long since Clint had felt this happy. Lila was practically skipping around the box and laughing. Cooper looked a bit star struck. They were waiting for the crowd to disperse before leaving the box though. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“When she did that move. The twirly one!” Lila demonstrated a fair imitation. “I don’t think Auntie Nat told us what it was called though.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper, his suit jacket hanging with Clint and Bucky’s over by the door, laughed as he settled back in his seat. “She ended it with knives though, Li. The ballerina tonight didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint looked up from where he’d been nervously messing with the buttons that attached his ridiculous suspenders to his dress trousers. There was no way he could last in these fancy clothes much longer. He grinned though at the memory of Nat teaching him that particular trick. “The thing with the twist of your wrist and aim right between the ribs?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky chuckled. “I need to see that follow through. I take it this means you two enjoyed the ballet?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila and Cooper shared a wary look but it was Cooper who spoke up. “We liked it a lot. It sounds dumb, but it was like having a piece of Auntie Nat back.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila hugged Clint, leaning over his back and wrapping her arms around him as much as she could. “We didn’t want to say anything and make us all sad. But, it was like she was here with us. I miss her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint’s throat felt like it was closing up and tears in his eyes were definitely a thing. He wished he had something wise or whatever to say. “Oh, no. Not dumb at all. That’s why I brought you. She wanted to do it, but when everything went sideways…”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky looked thoughtful, murmuring, “I think she’s looking down on all of you, happy that you’ve kept her memory alive.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Thor says she’s in Valhalla with all of the other warriors who fell in battle.” Clint had never said that aloud before, but now felt like the right time. “He told me that in the aftermath of everything. It was the first words I heard with my new aids actually. Then he laughed that big laugh and then he gave me a phone so I could call you two and Nate.” It took all he had to keep going. “He said I could ask the woman, the Valkyrie, and she’d tell me the same. I believed him.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper swiped at his eyes. “I asked for ballet lessons, ya know? Thought I’d be bendy enough for it with all the stuff you taught us, Dad. Got shot down, but still, I tried.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint managed a light laugh. “You already know some of it since Nat combined my acrobatics stuff and her ballet stuff long ago. But, if you still want lessons we can see what’s still available while you’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Lila tightened her hold slightly. “Nah, see all we have to do is mention it to Auntie Pepper. She’ll find someone to come in and give us lessons. I think I’ll do that when we get back tonight. Ohhh or Yelena could!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“We should get moving,” Bucky said, looking up from his phone. “Happy texted to say the crowd has thinned and he’s waiting out front for Li and Coop.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint stood, Lila snickering as she held on. He reached back to steady them both. “We can go to the apartment if you both would feel more comfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cooper stood, rolling his eyes with all the force and drama of a teenager. “Nopeeee. You aren’t getting out of kid free time that easy, Dad. We have popcorn and cheesy spy films to heckle waiting for us. Our friends too. We’ll be okay. You two go have fun and don’t get arrested.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint still had Lila clinging to his back, so he waited until Cooper had pulled on his suit jacket and coat before easing her to the ground. Bucky didn’t bother with the jacket, slipping his coat on over his dress shirt and vest combo. Then he tossed Clint his jacket and coat. Since it was fuckin’ cold out with the storm that was moving in (the weather had been weird since they’d reversed the Snap, but he wasn’t going to think about it, not now anyway), Clint was happy for the layers since the two of them had decided to take the subway back to his apartment rather than bothering anyone to drive them. Bucky was already holding out Lila’s coat and she playfully curtsied before allowing the other man to help her into it.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It only took a few minutes to get the kids (and Bucky’s suit jacket) down and safely in the car with Happy. They stood there and watched until the car was out of sight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You doing okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint wasn’t as surprised as he would have been months ago by the question. So, he set off towards the station and answered honestly. “Fine. I didn’t want them to feel bad about bringing Nat up. I never want them to feel bad. I still have nightmares. Of her falling and cutting herself loose and watching her hit the ground and knowing she wasn’t ever coming back from that. Or the ways I should have fuckin’ handled it.” He shoved his hands in his pockets to hide the fact that he was shaking lightly. “Sorry. Shouldn’t dump that shit on you. It’s why I hide it from them. They should remember her. Hell, I’d not have lived to see them grow up or for Nate to even exist without Nat.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky lightly bumped him. “Don’t do that to yourself. Talk away. Babble even. Don’t care so long as you don’t hold all that in and then end up holing up for a week or more and not taking care of yourself because you refuse to let anyone in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“My security </span>
  <em>
    <span>lets </span>
  </em>
  <span>you in.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A glare. “Not what I meant and you know it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint just shrugged, not wanting to say more now that they’d made it to the station. Bucky seemed to understand and they let the easy silence stretch. When they stepped back out in Brooklyn, he headed straight for the bar. Clint didn’t like to drink too much, especially these days with the ever present threat of a private investigator dogging him, but he needed at least one drink tonight. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You gonna try to kick my ass at pool and darts?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>As was probably intended, Clint couldn’t let that dig pass. “You do realize that the never miss thing isn’t just a catchphrase, right?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Prove it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint opened the door of the bar and ushered Bucky inside. They’d be completely out of place in their fancy clothes, but it was a live and let live sort of place. Mostly.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohhh, fancy. Not even one bruise or bloodstain,” someone heckled good-naturedly. Clint responded by flipping said heckler off as he moved to the bar. There were two bottles of beer waiting and Clint tossed a twenty on the bar before taking the drinks and moving towards the pool table. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He grinned at the round of groans as everyone cleared out. “Aww, hurt my feelings!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>One of the ladies grinned, pointing her finger at him as he set their beers down on an empty table. “We have your number, Clint! You’re a pool shark, fancy suit or not.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky snickered, already setting the table up. “He can’t help it.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I really can’t. It’s like I can’t miss or something.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Bucky tossed Clint a cue. “I’m breaking.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wide eyed and trying to look innocent, Clint stripped off the coat and suit jacket, tossing them on the nearest chair after setting the cue on the table next to their beers. “What? Ya don’t trust me?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, trust ya plenty. I also know you. So, we bettin’ or what?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint took a swig of his beer and then tipped his head, already tucking away the cufflinks and rolling up his sleeves. “Hmm. Tempting, but no. Not this time. Show me what ya got.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky’s cocky grin forced away the last of the sorrow that had been dragging him down since the ballet. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint stumbled down the stairs, his head pounding and the need for coffee blocking out everything else. His aids had been close, so he put them in and on for no real reason he could fathom. Hangovers sucked. He couldn’t remember anything past the first seven games of pool and four rounds of darts. Well, other than he’d fuckin’ won. Every single time. Bucky hadn't made it easy for him though.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Squinting, he managed to get the coffee brewing and then considered the canister of coffee and the large spoon he used as a scoop only about half a second. He needed caffeine stat, so he dug into the container and ate a heaping teaspoon full of grounds, sighing happily. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Christ! What the actual fuck, Clint?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Grumpily, Clint cradled the canister, taking another spoonful and shoving it in his mouth before Bucky managed to get it away from him. “Coffee. Hangover. Ouch.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky looked disgusted and amused in equal measure. “Go sit. I’ll get coffee and meds for the hangover.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmf. Why aren’t you hungover?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky steered him around and onto a stool. “Serum. Fuck, you have to be hurting to not remember that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint let his head ‘thunk’ on the counter. “Aww, pain, no.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Water. Acetaminophen. Go on.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint did as instructed, too sleepy to be outwardly amused that the pain pills were put in his hand. He was just happy to not have to fight with the child proof (ha more like adult proof) lid. He lifted his head just enough to take the pills and down the water. He was too fuckin’ old for this shit. This time he took care to cradle his head on his arms. “You get me drunk on purpose?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Clint. And because I know you, no you didn’t get drunk in public. I promise. You had a grand total of three beers at the bar. We came here and you unearthed a bottle of rum. But the way, nice imitation of the pirate guy when his rum was gone, just sayin’. I looked up the video after you fell asleep.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint just groaned. Lovely. His mortification was complete. “How stupid - wait no, don’t answer that.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Jesus,” Bucky snapped. “You had a drink or two too many. What sort a bastard do you take me for to judge you for that? Fucks sake, in your shoes I probably would have tied one on every damn night!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t,” Clint mumbled, wincing and concentrating on the coffee. Damn it, he did not need to get into </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>clusterfuck. Especially not after so epically proving why he should stay far, far away from more than an occasional beer. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Clint, I’ll drink all the coffee if you don’t explain.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh fuck. Keep it simple. “My old man. Drunk. Mean. Killed himself and my mom. Okay?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was quiet for so long that Clint figured he’d just lost himself another friend. Or something close. Damn it. Even when he was trying to keep things on the rails he failed. Same old story. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been dealing with a frankly batshit insane ex for over a </span>
  <em>
    <span>year</span>
  </em>
  <span> and this is the first time you’ve let yourself drink. I’ve never, ever heard anyone say a word about you drinking to excess. Tony, yeah everyone knew about him. But, </span>
  <em>
    <span>not you</span>
  </em>
  <span>. You get what I’m sayin’?”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Now you know why,” he replied wryly, reaching for the coffee pot and forcing his hand not to shake. This was not the time for his stupid anxiety to rear its ugly head. He felt like shit enough already. At least he managed to get the coffee in the cup and not all over the counter. It was a single point in his favor. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“You have been known to put yourself at risk for </span>
  <em>
    <span>dogs</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Clint. Last month I distinctly recall you carrying an elderly woman not just across a street but for three blocks and then up to her damn apartment. From what I heard, you spent as much time getting folks to safety as you did fighting fucking aliens during that first battle years ago. You traveled the fucking world and risk your fucking life taking out crime syndicates of varied shapes and sizes for </span>
  <em>
    <span>years</span>
  </em>
  <span> and I don’t just mean as an Avenger.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His head hurt and he was hungry and tired and just fuckin’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span>. “Well, thanks for that </span>
  <em>
    <span>lovely </span>
  </em>
  <span>recitation. Doing what I did as Ronin was apparently when I failed at being a fuckin’ hero and became some mad, raging lunatic!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Imma kill her. Slowly. It’ll be the first time I enjoy killing someone too. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fucking psychotic bitch</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint’s head snapped up and his jaw dropped. Usually Bucky only sounded half serious - okay closer to three quarters - about taking Laura out. It was never around the kids. No, everyone was very careful to never say negative shit (no matter how true it may be) about Laura where the kids would hear. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky was heading for the stairs - and towards the weapons cabinet - before Clint dropped the mug and scrambled after the livid beyond reason man. “Whoa! No killing her.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eye to eye thanks to Bucky making it partially up the stairs, they glared at one another for a few long minutes. “Why the fuck not? Don’t tell me the same old you’ll get blamed bullshit. Give me some fucking credit. Half the shit I did they never pinned on me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Clint thought long and hard to find a good reason and it would need to be a damn good one to stop Bucky at this point. The kids pretty much hated her and just wanted the madness to stop so that option was out. Clint would gleefully toss accelerant on her if she somehow </span>
  <em>
    <span>oops</span>
  </em>
  <span> caught fire. Pepper was about two steps away from blasting the bitch with her suit. Sam would probably not even object at this point. Happy sure as fuck would fly Bucky to do it and cheerily alibi him later. They were lucky Yelena hadn’t slipped away at this point to do the job. She’d offered, many times, and had been 110% serious each time. Hell, the bitch’s lawyers would probably throw a damn party if they didn’t have to deal with her anymore. The judge too. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That left only one thing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Because she’s not worth it. You’re worth ten of her and she’s not worth the cost to you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Bucky crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “You forgive too easily.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m an idiot, we all know this. Now, come on, food.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Pepper let me get a flamethrower,” Bucky said conversationally as he stomped into the kitchen and started pulling things out of the cabinet. The anger was still there, simmering just below the surface. “If they can’t find a body, they’ll think she just gave up and ran off. Just putting that option out there.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Despite everything, Clint just collapsed back onto the stool and laughed.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>He looked over at the kick to his shin, glaring halfheartedly. <br/>Bucky just signed: Stop. One thing at a time.<br/>That was fair. Kids first. Everything else could be dealt with after.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I added a warning for this. If you, or anyone you know, is dealing with the sort of situation Clint is please reach out - if you can - even if it is just to talk. There are people out there who WILL listen and help. </p><p>1-800-799-7233 Is the National Domestic Violence Hotline for the United States. </p><p> Link for international resources is at the top of the chapter.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Put your device in incognito (or the equivalent) if you need these resources but are concerned about anyone knowing that you looked for them. <em>Please</em>. Resources: <a href="https://www.mysticmag.com/psychic-reading/domestic-violence-resource-guide/">As comprehensive a list as I could find.</a> </p><p>
  <strong>--**--</strong>
</p><p>
  <span>The next couple of months passed quickly. The kids didn’t miss a single video call and Laura even left the room for said calls. Not even one nasty text from her either. Lila and Cooper were happier (for the most part) and even in the process of teaching Nate ASL slowly. Nate seemed to be back to his cheerful self, which Clint was thankful for. The little guy had been through so much for someone his age so any positives were celebrated. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint could be a total moron, but even he wasn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> stupid. He knew something was up. But, his lawyers just told him to be patient, that his case was working through the courts and not to look a gift horse in the mouth. That was fair. But. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Spit it out. Whatever’s bothering you. Just get it out.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked up from his coffee cup with a shrug. Somehow - and he still wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened - Bucky had spent more time here than at the Mansion when he was in town as of late. Clint was down to twice a week pizza, damn it all. Which he complained about just to get a rise out of the other man these days. Not that he didn’t still love pizza and would eat it for pretty much every meal if he could, but … it was nice. Nice in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before, not even back in the day when all was well with Laura. Clint wasn’t sure what that was about, so he pushed it all aside to focus. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Which he could do because his sort of roommate had not just made breakfast for them both but had made not one but two pots of coffee before Clint had been awake enough to navigate the stairs. There was now a carafe (grey not purple sadly) that lived in his kitchen along with a dozen other things he wasn‘t sure he even knew what they were for let alone how to use them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is she up to?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky slid a plate of waffles with fruit diced on top across to him. “Eat. She is playing at behaving since you’ve finally been given a court date. You know this is domestic violence, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint just shrugged. He’d lived through physical domestic violence. This didn’t seem the same.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is,” Bucky said flatly. “Verbal, emotional, and financial. I know the lawyers have said this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I talk to my therapist and the kids to theirs.” He was coming around to the idea though. It wasn’t that he was embarrassed, it was just that he was Clint fucking Barton. If he was going through this shit, how were people that didn’t have his resources dealing? It was something to ask Pepper about after. Maybe he could help there too?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked as if he wanted to say something, but refrained. “We can talk about it later, if you want. I’m going to the court thing, by the way.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was relieved at the change of subject. Bucky was good at putting shit out there and leaving it until Clint was ready to deal with it. He really did have the best friends ever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can’t murder glare her in court, Buck.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>One brow lifted. “I can too. Even the lawyers said so. If I can’t rip her to shreds literally, this will have to do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint nearly choked on his rather amazing waffles at that. Bucky just laughed and refilled his coffee. Sipping the coffee, Clint gave in. “Fine. Might be fun to see her face when she sees you walk in with me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky slid over a tablet with one of the more identifiable tabloid sites already up. “Just so ya know, you’re about to propose to me. They even have a poll going as to when and where. Vegas bookies are involved too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint rolled his eyes, not giving a shit what the tabloids - or apparently bookies - were saying. He used to worry back when the Avengers first became a thing, but he was too damn old now to work up any energy to give a single shit about any of it. It didn’t bother Bucky, his kids, or his found family so he simply didn’t pay attention. “Ask Happy to get someone to place your bet. Make a killing on the nosey fuckers.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I already did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Okay, Clint hadn’t been expecting that. “What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky looked completely unrepentant as he ate his own stack of waffles. “To be fair, it was Yelena’s idea. She said if people were willing to bet on our private life we should get something out of it. I just agreed with her assessment.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that falls under the whole teaching the Young Avengers good things. You’re the responsible one of the two of us!” He felt like he had to point that out, even if he did agree with her. Fuck. He’d become some sort of model citizen lately. That was just proof of how wrong everything had gone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which is why you’re eating waffles and actual fruit, Clint. We both have therapy in an hour so eat up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>WALDO spoke from his phone and Clint was so used to it, he didn’t even startle at the reminder: “Gentlemen, do not forget that tonight is your standing date at the ballet as well. The show starts at 7pm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He’d given up convincing WALDO it wasn’t a date every time he and Bucky did things together. Mainly because, even after all these years, arguing with an AI made him feel like an idiot. It also meant that Pepper stopped bugging him about having a life outside of the kids and Avengers duties. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just because he enjoyed the fuck out of the varied activities he and Bucky managed to find to do was besides the point. He didn’t love baseball like Bucky and Cooper, but games were fun. Especially since Bucky had a visceral hatred for the Yankees. Something something Dodgers forever something something.  He didn’t</span>
  <em>
    <span> not</span>
  </em>
  <span> listen, but it was more fun to watch Bucky get all passionate over it than it was to listen to the same details over and over again. Hell, he probably could recite the whole speech, having heard it enough. So, these days he just kicked back grinning as Bucky ranted and paced. Usually with pizza in hand so it was like dinner and a show.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Clint.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I wasn’t spaced out,” he replied with a wince. “Really.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That half smile that few saw from Bucky made Clint happy. He liked that Bucky didn’t front with him. “I didn’t think you had. Eat or the waffles will get cold. Your poor therapist doesn’t need to deal with you hangry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Snickering, Clint made quick work of finishing the food. It wasn’t until they were heading out that he took the travel mug from Bucky and teased, “You’ve been taking lessons from the kids, haven’t you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky clipped Lucky’s leash on and then swatted at him with the leash. “Might as well make sure I don't sound as old as I am. They heckle otherwise. Then I have to pretend to be offended. It's a pain in the ass. This is easier.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, heckling, no.” Clint was laughing though. They both were as they made their way down the stairs. The elevator was in full working order because he’d finally given up on repairmen actually doing the job properly and whined to Pepper about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, they liked taking the stairs. Especially Lucky because he got pets from everyone that was coming or going, or who simply had the door open for the usual morning routine. They’d had their last rooftop cookout of the year last weekend and everyone was a bit put out about it. He figured someone would suggest pot luck or something similar eventually. He was almost proud of the happy little community they had built in the building even though he’d not been responsible for it, merely swept along as it happened. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, gentlemen! And Lucky,” Aimee added, peeking out of her partially open door. “You don’t look like you slept much. Either of you. Was there a callout?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We lost track of time is all,” Clint said cheerily, not about to go into his three day depressive episode. He wasn‘t sure what had caused it or why he couldn’t damn well get a hold on it all, but that was what this therapy appointment was for. He should get some sort of prize for not arguing when Bucky had handed him his phone and simply waited for him to make the call, that concerned frown on his face that didn‘t get Clint’s back up like it used to. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She didn’t look convinced, but smiled all the same. “We want to set up a spot just inside the front doors for Halloween, if that’s okay? The kids are excited about trick or treating and we thought it would be a good way to do it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought it over. Pepper had insisted on top notch security even though the building wasn’t one of her high end places. Clint liked that it was a bit run down and in need of TLC. He was far more comfortable here than he was anywhere else he’d lived as an Avenger. But, it was his and that meant this sort of thing needed his approval. By not letting strangers actually inside, it would be better for everyone's safety. Clint did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> want the bros or anyone with a vendetta against him or Bucky to put the rest of the building at risk. He’d up the security for Halloween and cross his fingers nothing went wrong. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sounds good. Don’t let them in, but you can hand out candy. Have fun.” He paused and considered the incomes of most of the residents of the building. “Want me to pick up the candy to hand out? Does that fall under ‘I own the place so it’s my job to provide it’?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She shook her head. “Nah, you’re good. Simone is going to corner you both about showing up in costumes. Costumes meaning not your work gear. Just a warning.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky winced. “We have other plans for the night. Call if you need us, of course, but someone promised Morgan we’d be at her party.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take pictures?” Clint asked, sipping his coffee and wondering what Nate would dress up as or if he would dress up. Would Cooper and Lila? Or were they too old now? He’d have to ask the next video call. Damn it, it was probably something he should have thought of to ask before now. Shit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course we will!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We need to go,” Bucky said apologetically. He got Clint moving, both of them waving goodbye. Once they were out of the building, he side eyed Clint. “What got that guilty look on your face?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He shrugged, climbing into the waiting car. “Shoulda asked the kids about costumes already. Used to be a big deal when Coop and Li were younger.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky slid in next to him, Lucky curling up in the seat between them. “You’ve been meeting the lawyers at least twice a month on top of all the other shit you have to deal with. I didn’t think of it either, so stop beating yourself up about it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Not knowing what to say to that, Clint concentrated on his coffee. This therapy session was going to be a long one, he just knew it was.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--**--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re going to need everyone for this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint looked over the dozen holo screens and sighed. The whole multiverse thing had been difficult enough to wrap his mind around. Now this too? On top of all the other shit he had to deal with? “They’re why the weather has been screwed up?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Sam didn’t look any happier about this development than anyone else around the table or who had holoed in. “AIM quietly built up during the Snap chaos. For now, we need to go in and confiscate this weather machine or whatever it is. We’ll need Hope and Bruce to take the lead on this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hope looked up from a tablet, her smile tight and forced. “I can’t say, yet, what they are up to. Even with all our tech. Thus far, they seem to be almost playing. I hate to word it that way, but it fits.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bruce spoke up, not looking up from his own tablet. “They’re like kids in a candy store. Tornadoes in states that have never seen one before, hurricanes forming over Lake Huron, and a dusting of snow in July in New York. No injuries or even much damage thus far. Playing, like Hope said. I would even call it an experiment of sorts. We just don’t know for what.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When can we hit their facility?” Clint asked, feeling just straight up worn down. Fuck, he was tired of horrible people taking advantage of what had basically been the fucking apocalypse. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not until well after your custody hearing.” Pepper looked up from her tablet. “We are doing recon now. We need to know as much as possible before we go in. I’d rather keep my family safe when possible.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since the custody hearing was in six days, Clint was all too happy to let the more science minded of the group figure out what these mad scientists were up to before going in. He’d happily risked his neck for most of his life. Being less than a week from possibly having his kids full time, he really couldn’t work up the energy to do this raid now. God he was old. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked over at the kick to his shin, glaring halfheartedly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky just signed: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Stop. One thing at a time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was fair. Kids first. Everything else could be dealt with after.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--**--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Nervous, Clint stood in front of his closet trying to not lose his shit completely. There was a whole wardrobe of Pepper approved clothes. He knew he needed to just pick something and go get more coffee. But what? Too many fucking choices and he didn’t need choices. Not right now. Damn it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clint?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky appeared in the bedroom doorway, already dressed in the same suit he had worn to the ballet that first time. “Yelena is here. Throw trousers on and I’ll send her up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Which ones? This is ridiculous.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky sighed and strode over, pulling out a pair of pants. “I have coffee ready. Wear these and the dark purple shirt you wore to the ballet last time. You’ve got this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I really don’t,” he muttered, even as he pulled the pants on. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span>. One of these days, you’ll see what is right in front of your face.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see better from a distance,” he quipped, grabbing the shirt off it’s hanger. “Everyone knows that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The other man snorted. “Yeah, yeah, and with a bit of distance you’ll see how it really is. Like I said months ago, I’ve got faith in you until you have it in yourself. I’ll send Yelena up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was - only because the pants needed them according to the tailor - buttoning the suspenders when she stepped into the doorway. Her English, like Nat’s had been, was without inflection and perfect. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Natasha trusted me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Turning to her, he managed a small smile. Then he went for the cufflinks already laid out on the dresser. “She did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She told me I could trust you too. That you would never judge. Never look down on all I have done. That I could learn so much from you, just as she did.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was blushing, he knew he was. Clint fumbled with the cufflinks and Yelena gave him a look that was so </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nat</span>
  </em>
  <span> that he nearly broke right then and there. She did that little lip quirk of a smile and crossed to him, taking the cufflinks and securing them for him. Hell, she even did that hand pat thing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At first, I merely trusted her trust in you. Then, you earned mine all on your own. She said you were her family. Her brother in all the ways that counted. She told me this: <em>he’s a disaster, but the best disaster I’ve ever known, Yelena. You will never, ever know a better man - a better person - than Clint Barton.</em> She was right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wasn't crying. Nope. Not him. Blinking, he was at a loss for words. Yelena sighed, patting his cheek softly. “She also said you were soft and needed a swift kick every once in a while. So, consider this your swift kick for the day. You matter, Clint, to so many of us. Most especially to your kids. They love you so much. So, wipe your eyes, and for once, simply believe you will win today. That you deserve this. Because you do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She turned and walked away as if she’d not just verbally knocked him on his ass. His hands shook and Clint took a few minutes to settle before he finished getting ready. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--**--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The hearing had started out okay. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But, now. Well. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laura was waving around a picture of Clint, the kids, and Kate. Kate had her bow case in hand. “See! This is the thing I was trying to protect them from!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Judge looked equally confused and irritated as Clint felt. That was good right? His lawyers had told him to sit quietly and allow them to do the talking unless addressed specifically. He was doing that so far and it seemed to just make her more adamant about proving what a horrible person he was. She’d already played the ‘dangerous / gay / vigilante’ cards, which the judge had warned her had already been dismissed by the courts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am, it is not illegal for an Avenger to carry a weapon. In fact, it is highly encouraged.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laura looked more than a bit unhinged. “Why? I don’t get it. We spent five years in </span>
  <em>
    <span>purgatory</span>
  </em>
  <span> because the all mighty Avengers didn’t do their damn jobs! He didn’t even have the good grace to die and stay dead so I could collect his life insurance!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She waved off her lawyer who looked as if he was trying to sit on her to shut her up. “Do you have any idea how embarrassing it was when he got himself locked up in maximum security prison? I want those kids so I can get every last dime that useless bastard has! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>deserve </span>
  </em>
  <span>it all! He deserves </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Yet, I keep getting in trouble because he’s an Avenger. A</span>
  <em>
    <span> vigilante</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I stayed home and raised the kids quietly. He was barely even home, which was also what I wanted!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint felt himself die a little inside with each and every hate filled word. His shoulders slumped and it took everything he had not to curl up in a ball right there in the courtroom. He could feel Pepper and Bucky watching him, and that helped a little bit. They had his back. They didn’t think he was useless. Yelena had been convinced to stay at the Mansion. None of them - even Yelena herself - had been certain she wouldn’t just snap and go for Laura. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was supposed to stay gone and leave that life separate! Then die so I could have all the money! Do you think I wanted all those kids? No! But it kept him coming around and the money coming in!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint’s lawyer leaned in and whispered, “Hold it together.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It was so fuckin’ hard. He forced himself not to do that blank out and hide thing. He couldn’t, not here, not now. Not when she was proving just why the kids were at risk around her. Had she really said she didn’t even want them? His poor babies. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Silence!” The judge looked fit to burst. “I feel that the best course of action is that Clinton Barton has sole legal and physical custody of the three minor children: Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel Barton until such time as Laura Barton receives counselling and is deemed mentally and physically fit to parent them. Once that occurs, we will revisit the custody arrangement.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Laura lost all her shit. “Fine! He wants them! He can have them!” She whipped her head around, glaring at Clint. “You’ll pay, you useless excuse for a man!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She stormed out of the courtroom, her lawyer still sat at the table shaking his head. “Your Honor, I apologize for my client’s outburst. We will, of course, enroll Mrs Barton in counselling. I plead with the court to take into account her trauma from being stuck for five years in the soul realm.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint’s lead lawyer had a glint in her eyes. “Your Honor, we have submitted assessments from the psychologist who has assessed and is treating the minor children. We respectfully request the change of custody be made permanent. We would also like to petition the court that she be immediately evicted from the Missouri property since it belongs to the children and they will be here in New York. We are concerned as to what she may do, in her current condition, to the children's property.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The judge clenched her jaw. “One hour recess so that I may go over all the information again in light of Mrs Barton’s outburst.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint stood when his lawyer told him to and followed her out of the courtroom and down the hall into a small room with a round table. He sat and it wasn’t until the paper cup of coffee was set in front of him that he realized Bucky and Pepper had followed them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This is </span>
  <em>
    <span>good</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” the lawyer said, actually grinning now that they were out of the courtroom. “She came off as completely unhinged. You should have your children full time when this is over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint didn’t bother with the coffee until Bucky literally wrapped his hand around the cup. He didn’t even listen to whatever Pepper and the lawyer were talking about. He concentrated on not spilling the constant flow of coffee Bucky provided instead. All he could hear was her insane, hate-fuelled words. Had she ever truly cared or had she just enjoyed the relatively comfortable paychecks he received? Had she truly meant that she hadn't wanted the kids? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, ignoring Bucky nudging his leg. Had his marriage ever been real? Or had he been a convenience to her all along? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The important thing is that your kids love you and you love them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bucky has it right, Clint.” Pepper reached over and patted his arm. “You are a great dad and every damn person in the courtroom knows it. Hell, the whole world knows it. In a few months, once this is all done and in the distance, we’re sitting down and I’m showing you that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He knew her word choice was deliberate and managed to work up a slight smile. His whole life he’d been better at the big picture rather than the details. He could plan a damn infiltration like a champ. Otherwise, yeah, details really weren’t his thing. So, he took a leap of faith and dared to hope. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next hours were a blur. All he could focus on was the silent, supportive man sitting next to him filling his coffee and - for once - not complaining about heart attacks or Clint being over caffeinated. He followed the lawyers and wasn’t terribly surprised to see that Laura hadn’t bothered to show back up. The judge made it clear that the kids were his and that she doubted Laura would ever be seen as fit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was almost anticlimactic really. He got his babies and Laura was given five days - with a court appointed observer watching - to remove herself and her belongings from the farm. Before they left the courthouse, Pepper was calling Happy and Sam to pick up the kids and anything they wanted brought with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was going to take every last ounce of his acrobatics skills to balance everything now. But, for the first time since Nat had fallen, Clint finally accepted that he wasn’t alone in this crazy dumpster fire balancing act that was his life. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a bright smile that wasn’t fake or forced, he bumped shoulders with Bucky. “We can stop to pick up ice cream and a cake right? Surely we all deserve a big ass cake and ice cream party to celebrate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Already done,” Bucky teased. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint laughed as he climbed into the car. “Of course it is.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I said I had faith in you and was watching your six.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I'm beginning to see that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Took ya long enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint took the teasing in the manner in which it was meant. He couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d missed in his haze of depression and merely trying to cope with all of the bullshit. Part of him couldn’t wait to find out.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>—**—</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Epilogue / Bonus Scene</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint slipped out of the 4th of July party. Pepper had limited the guest list thankfully. The kids had been shooed off a few hours ago, though Morgan and Nate had been all but asleep on their feet before admitting it was bedtime. The Young Avengers (including Lila and Cooper) had also slipped off to have a smaller party of their own. He chuckled, leaning his hip on the small table on the balcony. Lila was adamant about being rostered on as a Young Avenger. Cooper was just as adamant that he wanted to try a ‘regular’ life instead. He was good with both choices. His only firm line on the matter was that Lila was to finish high school - just like Peter had - before officially becoming an Avenger. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door opened and he glanced over, his smile automatic when he spotted Bucky. They were practically connected at the hip these days and Clint couldn’t be happier about it. Bucky hadn’t replaced Nat anymore than he’d replaced Steve for Bucky. It was different in an intrinsic way that, thus far, he was content to not study too closely. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They stood there, watching the fireworks in a peaceful silence until Bucky’s low drawl flowed over him soothingly. “Construction starts next week. Have you decided where we’re going?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint almost laughed at the bland way Bucky referred to the refurbishment of the apartment building. He’d not actually believed the jokes about betting on their so-called relationship until he’d been handed a deposit slip just after Christmas. His cut, Bucky had called it. Clint’s jaw had dropped at all the zeros and promptly decided to call a building meeting and get a list of all the things that needed upgrading. The kids had angled for a vacation since the construction efforts would be watched over by one of Pepper’s trusted people. He was weak, especially when Bucky joined in on the cajoling. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The farm.” He side eyed the other man. “There will be an actual bed there for you, rather than a couch.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You sure you’re okay with expanding the apartment too?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the hesitant tone he’d not heard from the other man in over a year, Clint put his full attention on him. It struck him how drop dead fuckin’ gorgeous Bucky was. Well, he’d noticed ages ago, but shuffled those sorts of thoughts aside with everything else demanding his attention. With time - and yes distance - he finally realized what an idiot he’d been. Moment after moment flashed before his eyes and Clint nearly facepalmed. Wow. But, because he was an idiot and figured he’d already been given his one good thing, Clint struggled to not babble or stress apologize or in general make a bigger fool out of himself than he already had. “Of course I am. Should have made space for you before. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A mild murder glare was aimed at him. “For fucking what?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint snickered. “Hmm. Not seeing what was right in front of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The glare morphed into a hopeful little smile. “What was it you think you missed?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Seeing me now?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah, I think I finally am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good. Took you long enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Leaning on the shorter man, Clint finally, finally relaxed and accepted that maybe, if he played his card right, he could have </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> good things. “Good thing I’ve got you to kick my ass when needed, eh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You do. Always.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Something deep down inside settled and mended. Something he’d not known was broken. He grinned though. “Might take a lot of ass kicking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Bucky laughed. “I’ve got it down to an art at this point.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have to think of how to make it up to you all proper like and everything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found himself backed against the wall, Bucky rolling his eyes even as he caged Clint in. “No, you really don’t. You needed time and space. I was happy to give it to you. Wouldn’t say no to a kiss though, if you’re onboard with that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clint flipped them both, taking his turn at pinning Bucky to the wall. “Oh I am, I so am.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He set about proving just how much he meant it.</span>
</p>
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